


Snow bells and Serpents

by Anxiety_Pickle



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Blatant ignoring of canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Clan Politics, F/F, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Politics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team Dynamics, The Author Regrets Everything, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Worldbuilding, deidara is an asshole, no beta we die like men, orochimaru stays dead this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:22:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxiety_Pickle/pseuds/Anxiety_Pickle
Summary: “It isn’t.” Kakashi clears his throat. “Forgive me, princess, but Sasuke was left deliberately uninformed about the... arangement.”“Arrangement?” He parrots, the syllables wrong on his tongue.“Yes.” She says primly. “We’re engaged to be married.”Refusing a political marriage could probably plunge the world into another war. Sasuke is still tempted.Unfortunately for everyone, accidental marriage acquisition isn't the only thing they have to worry about - there's always the rapidly escalating assassination attempts to worry about, too.
Relationships: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 & Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino, Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 87
Kudos: 242





	1. Of unexpected fiance acquisition

**Author's Note:**

> SNS is endgame and I wrote this for the wlw mlm solidarity. Since this first chapter is introductory, it will probably be comparatively shorter than any following chapters. Let me know if you need me to add another content warning or tag or anything :)
> 
> -For the sake of the plot, Sasuke returns to Konoha after killing Orochimaru. Assume he killed him a little earlier than in canon and has been back in Konoha for a couple months

Two weeks have passed by the time they reach the borders of Yukigakure, and they still have miles to go. Thick, soldiering woodland guards the Land of Snow’s edge, their bark chipped and scraped off from the vicious winter storms, glaring down at them from either side of the path as they trek through the winding dirt path, which has been covered liberally with snow. Sasuke has never seen this much snow in his entire life. Winter may have already passed by the time they reached Yukigakure’s gilded gates, but they say it is always winter there - perpetually cold.  


Sasuke makes an effort of _not_ shivering because Kakashi, ambling easily before his three struggling students, hands in his pockets as if he weren’t phased by the cold in the slightest, had made a huge deal about the cold before they’d embarked on the final leg of this awful journey, and had argued with him for a good ten minutes about what he was wearing. If he lets him know he’s cold, he’ll never hear the end of it.  


Beside him, Naruto makes no such effort, affording no discretion at all as he openly sniffles and sulks, trudging through the snow with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner marching to the gallows. Sakura isn’t much better. She’s tugging her hood of her coat tighter around her neck and shivering so hard she might cause an earthquake.  


“We have to be getting close, right?” Sakura calls.  


“We’re closer than we were five minutes ago.” Kakashi offers. Sasuke considers going back to Oto for real. Maybe he should’ve stayed after gutting Orochimaru and freeing the prisoners. Maybe if he made a run for it he could still escape.  


Naruto growls and grits his teeth. “You’ve been saying that for the past three hours!” He points an accusing finger. “Do you even know where we’re going?!”  


He hums. Lazy. Unconcerned. “To the lovely city of Yukigakure, of course.”  


With the three of them combined, they could probably outrun him.  


“We never should’ve come out here…” Sakura grumbles, rage creased into her expression. For once, he can’t help but agree. The cold leeches the warmth straight from his bones. If this wasn’t an S-ranked mission, he probably wouldn’t have agreed.  


But it’s strange. An S-ranked mission would clean up his mission repertuar, certainly, but it had been suspicious in the sense that they were being assigned to guard the peace negotiations by themselves. He was under the assumption that there would be military from Yukigakure, as well, but for such an important mission (and Tsunade had stressed this, that it was, in no uncertain terms, an extremely delicate situation) the security seemed… decidedly lacking. They were trying to prevent full world war, after all.  


He doesn’t voice his thoughts, though. He’s sure Sakura has picked it up, he isn’t sure Naruto was even listening to the debriefing at all, no matter how many times Tsunade tried to pound it into his thick skull, but that’s hardly of any consequence.  


Kakashi is tense. His shoulders are pulled back, his posture just stiff enough to bely his intentions. He feels twelve again, hiding behind him as he stood between them and Zabuza. His eyes never leave the path.  


Sasuke files it away for future reference, and tries not to feel like he’s being watched.  


“What’re we doing here, anyways?” Naruto mumbles, watching his breath fan out in front of him. It doesn’t take a genius to recognize his intrinsic dislike of the cold.  


“Did you listen to a thing anyone said at the debriefing?” Sakura snaps, halfway to strangling him. “ _Peace negotiations_.”  


Yukigakure is perhaps the most mysterious of all the hidden villages, if only because of its relative isolation. It shares a border with lightning territory, he knows, but most of the time, outsiders aren’t welcome. He remembers Oto’s involvement in the land of the rice, once its establishment as a village had been fully realized, and how they got tangled up in a web of intricate and convoluted political ties that had somehow wound all the way back to the land of snow that no one seemed to think about. Their arrangement with Konoha was a simple one: trade. Why that treaty was coming undone at the seams now, no one seemed to be able to tell him, not that he really asked. Still, if the treaty frayed any further, it would plunge them into another great war, and Sasuke isn’t in the mood to become a mindless Konoha foot soldier. He’s putting up with them for now. Once Tsunade fully processes his request to be relieved of his duties (most of his punishments had been waived in exchange for Orochimaru’s corpse and he’d never even been officially listed as a criminal in the Bingo books) he would be free of their influence.  


“Hey, there it is!”  


Naruto charges ahead despite Kakashi’s half assed, very convincing, “Wait,”, and then Sakura’s charging after him before he can make an already bad situation worse and disgrace all the Konoha shinobi. Kakashi stares at him, and he stares back. He joins his hands behind his head and sighs.  


“My students are such a handful.”  


Sasuke rolls his eyes.  


Yukigakure’s walls are high and regal. A guard stands at the outpost, ready to accept their passports and escort them into the city. Naruto is practically vibrating. Sasuke and Sakura are looking at something else.  


“That,” Sakura says slowly. “Is a polar bear.”  


At the far end of the stretch of woods, a great shape enshrouded in snow lifts its head to watch their approach. Sakura squeaks, breathless, and she is the only one that looks even slightly thrilled at the prospect of approaching the very large, very dangerous animal. The escort moves closer. “Do you think it’s tame?” She whispers excitedly.  


“Let’s push Naruto in and find out.”  


The bastard isn’t even paying enough attention to be properly offended by it. Sakura shoves his shoulder with enough force to send him stumbling sideways, but there’s a grin on her face.  


“Ino is gonna be so mad when she finds out I’ve seen a polar bear.”  


“She’ll be more mad if you get eaten by one.” He points out.  


“No.” She says, without hesitation. “No she will not.”  


Sasuke snorts.  


The courtroom is perhaps the biggest thing he’s ever seen. It’s wide and undeniably spacious, with polished hardwood floors hidden beneath thick patterned carpets, their ropes tassels braided together. Most of the floor is devoid of furniture, and great, sprawling stained glass windows sit high on the walls, reflecting a rainbow mosaic onto the floor when the light is right. At the corners are lined diplomats and envoys from every region imaginable, and further, in the corners of the room, the shinobi. Some are masked figures, and he can make out Kirigakure's symbol among them. Thick, colorful curtains block the entrance to the grand hallway, which leads to the princess’ room, or so he assumes.  


Sakura oggles at the stunning, elegant architecture (particularly at the sculpture of a dragon that seems to be made purely out of ice), while Naruto stares openly at the buffett.  


“Woah,” He whispers. “That fish is pink.”  


Sasuke would like to point out that several types of fish that are open to the Konoha market are pink, but is momentarily stunned by the _degree_ of pink. It almost hurts to look at. Nothing natural should be that shade of pink. It even puts Sakura’s hair to shame.  


“How,” Sakura grabs his color and shakes him around. “Are you looking at a fish? Are you not seeing the ice dragon? Or-” Her grin turns devious. “The esteemed representative from the land of earth?”  


Said representative has the most ridiculous haircut Sasuke has ever seen, and the corresponding mustache that seems to originate from his nose isn’t doing him any favors.  


But he isn’t going to laugh. If there’s one thing he can do, it’s maintain a poker face.  


Naruto giggles and Sakura is doing her best not to laugh every time he turns and another piece of hair falls in his face.  


Kakashi’s hands come down on their heads and Sasuke smirks, believed safe from his judgement, before he then turns and drags him over by the shoulders.  


“You two. Quit making fun of the poor man’s terrible haircut. You’re making Konoha look bad.”  


“Nothing compared to how bad earth looks,” Sakura snickers under her breath.  


“What do you know about public decency?” Naruto huffs. “You read porn in public.”  


And, well, there isn’t anything Kakashi can really say to that, so it’s swiftly ignored.  


“Sasuke,” He clears his throat, “There’s something I should tell you before-”  


He’s cut off abruptly as the room swiftly silences. Rows of heads swing towards the parting curtains, which shimmer like silk. Sasuke turns.  


The girl who enters seems to captivate the light itself, draped in the elegance of silvers and golds that seem to glow. Her posture is sharp and confident despite her age - her sixteen years to their fifteen. Her hair, which is startlingly white, sits atop her head in a cradle of intricate braids, a teal headset offsetting her monochrome appearance. Her advisor trails behind her like a ghost, sporting heavy white garbs tied at the waist by a golden chord. His long, graying hair reaches his shoulders. As soon as the proper addresses are made, polite conversation begins again, supplemented by the music provided by an instrument he’s not familiar with. Its sound is thin and wobbling and bright.  


He himself is approached on multiple occasions, much to his displeasure. Usually, his surly glare is enough to ward any potential conversationalists away if his reputation doesn’t already (though Sakura likes to say he’s too pretty for his glare to hold much weight), but tonight in particular he finds himself joined by several politicians from all around the world, and for the life of him he can’t figure out why. He can feel Kakashi’s warning gaze boring holes into the back of his head, and if he didn’t know better he would’ve assumed he’d opened the sharingan on him then and there, so he keeps his responses as polite and concise and the least inflammatory he can make them.  


By the time conversation has died down, it’s time to forgo the platitudes and pleasantries and discuss the actual, impending infrastructural collapse that the dissolution of the treaty will cause-  


Or, at least, that’s what he thinks is supposed to happen, anyways. He doesn’t know the first thing about politics, and he knows even less about foriegn politics.  


As the talking hushes and they’re ushered into silence again, Kakashi grabs his shoulder.  


“There’s really something I should tell you-”  


Yukigakure’s delegation stands, the princess, Ayame Katayama, if he recalls, leading the procession. She strides up the wide, polished stairs and comes to a stop-  


Right in front of him?  


Up close, he realizes that she has an inch or two on him, and most of her features are hidden behind a semi-translucent veil that falls from her headpiece. She offers him a smile, which he is currently too confused to process. He can feel Naruto edging closer to him on one side, Kakashi’s stare once again burning holes into his back.  


“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” She smiles charismatically, and he’s missing some crucial part of the puzzle because as far as he knows this mission didn’t entail interaction of any sort-  


“I apologize for the accommodations. We misjudged your arrival time. Elrich would be honored to take you back to your lodgings now, if you would like.”  


He has no idea what’s happening. Had he misunderstood the mission parameters? He glances back at Kakashi, who is very pointedly not looking at him, and back to the expectant gaze of the princess.  


“What?” He manages eventually, very intelligently. The professional atmosphere seems to shatter at the decidedly unprofessional answer, and she purses her painted lips.  


“Oh.” Her troubled expression smooths over. “I see. I’m afraid I wasn’t made aware that the arrangement was considered a secret in Konoha.”  


“It isn’t.” Kakashi clears his throat. “Forgive me, princess, but Sasuke was left deliberately uninformed about the nature of our visit.”  


Now Sakura and Naruto are looking at him too.  


“Arrangement?” He parrots, the syllables wrong on his tongue.  


Kakashi rubs the back of his neck, but before he can offer an explanation, Ayame commands the attention of the room once more as she rolls her shoulders back.  


“Yes.” She says primly. “We’re engaged to be married.”


	2. Wedding Bells and Cyanide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that commented, you guys are the best! The first chapter was originally part of a bigger chapter I wrote, but decided that I needed something more introductory to ease into the general idea. Sorry about the formatting on the last chapter. Ao3 ate my line breaks and italics.

Engaged. 

_Engaged_. 

No, it still doesn’t sound right. 

He stares, for an undignified moment, at Ayame, and her shiny black eyes that bear surprising resemblance to the seals the Land of Snow is famous for. 

Engaged. To be _married_. 

Instantaneously, the shock vaporizes into anger, because he isn’t sure how else to react. 

“ _You_.” He snarls at Kakashi. “I don’t suppose this is what you were trying to tell me?”

“It might be.” Kakashi, at the very least, has the decency to look a _little_ abashed.

“And _why_ ,” He continues, seething, “Did no one tell me that I was _engaged_?!”

“Wait!” Naruto interjects, voice reedy and almost offended. “Sasuke’s engaged? Since when!?”

They’ve garnered quite a few strange looks by this point, and they’re very noticeably tarnishing the pleasant atmosphere. Kakashi runs a hand down his face. Before him, Ayama bites her lip and folds her hands in front of her, looking vaguely uncomfortable, and _god_ does he understand the sentiment. 

If he knew he was engaged, maybe there were a few things he wouldn’t have done.

“It seems we’ve gathered an audience.” Her voice drops an octave so that he can barely hear it beneath the ambient noise. “I think it would be beneficial to all to continue this conversation in private.” She turns to address him specifically. “I promise this situation will be explained, Unfortunately, we were not prepared for… these specific circumstances. Follow me, if you would.” She turns in a flourish of expensive silk and descends the stairs with an aura of grace that seems almost ethereal. He stares after her for a moment, before Kakashi plants a firm hand on his shoulder and ushers him forward.

The chamber they’re led into is even more sparsely decorated then the last. He supposes the architecture would speak for itself, if he was interested at all in that sort of thing. It had an elegant, tasteful style of building that was in stark contrast to the austere design of Konoha. Great marble pillars tower over them, supporting the great, smooth, expressionless ceiling. The polished floors are left uncovered except for the center of the room, where a table, low to the ground, has been propped up. Around the edges of the carpets are sets of lavish pillows complete with gold embroidery. If he looked, he’s sure that he could spot his reflection. This room is devoid of windows, its walls relatively bare, but breathtaking, expressive acrylic paintings are hung on the walls in front of a backdrop of teal curtains. 

Ayame folds herself down gracefully upon one of the pillows, and gestures for them to follow suit. Sasuke, with what feels like far less grace, sits across from her, Naruto and Sakura flanking him on either side. Naruto has a hand on his shoulder and an inscrutable expression on his face. His mouth is drawn to a thin line. On his other side, Sakura hovers protectively. He would tell them to, kindly, fuck off if he trusted himself to speak civilly. 

“Well?” It’s a miracle he keeps his voice level. 

Ayame glances between Sasuke and Kakashi, and it’s eventually the former who acts.

“I suppose I should start. Ahh, as I’m you’re next of kin, and therefore technically your guardian-”

“You’re my _what_ -”

“-I have access to most of your files. Your engagement isn’t hidden, per se. There was a bit of an unfortunate precedent that made you, uh… unable to see the contents of those files. I might have gotten a little suspicious when we were assigned this mission and… looked into it.”

Sasuke is still reeling from the ‘technical guardian’ thing, because _objectively_ he knew that a next-of-kin was usually required upon graduation from the academy, that there had to be someone to handle the potential funeral services and medical files, and that he had been under Kakashi’s surveillance for quite some time after he’d come back to Konoha, hearing it was _emphatically_ different.

“And you didn’t tell me because…?” 

“Because,” He sighs heavily. “I was asked by our benevolent Hokage not to.”

Any by ‘asked’, he knows he most likely means ‘obligated under threat of physical violence’. Feared as Kakashi may be, bones tended to be very breakable when met with Tsunade’s fists, especially when she was angry. 

“Why?”

“She was, ah, afraid you’d become a flight risk.”

He would be more offended by that if it weren’t completely true. And, well. Considering his history, it isn’t an unsubstantiated fear. 

It doesn’t, however, stop him from being angry. 

“I think the Princess should explain the rest of it. I assume she has a better grasp on the situation than I do.” 

“I would hope so.” Her smile thins. “Sixteen years ago, just after I was born, my father, facing an economic depression and concerned with Yukigakure’s standing with Konoha, sought out a way to… consolidate and further cultivate peaceful relations between us. The easiest way for him to do so at that time was to arrange a marriage - my hand for the hand of someone around my age. One of the requirements was that the child picked would have to be part of a clan that had significant sway in the foundation of Konoha. It was only appropriate for the fiance of the heir to the throne to be of equal social status. The Uchiha clan was an integral founding branch of Konoha, but it would have been unbecoming of my father to ask for the heir to the Uchiha clan, if only because of your clan’s reputation and prestige.”

Sasuke stiffens instinctively at the mention of his brother, and counts to ten as he exhales, dispelling the mental image of the massacre that his sharingan burned into the back of his head, a permanent reminder of Itachi’s legacy.

Naruto’s grip on his shoulder tightens and he leans forward. Sasuke swats him away and swallows.

Her eyes are hooded with apology, but she doesn’t voice it. Strangely, he’s grateful for it.

“For that reason, he instead asked for the hand of the second son. Our marriage was already preordained by the time you were born.”

She takes a deep breath. “I understand the circumstances are… deeply unfortunate, but I ask you to consider. Please, keep an open mind until we’ve discussed the parameters of the marriage. I assure you, it is a purely political one.”

His fingers curl into the fabric of his pants. 

“I…” His head is spinning. What is he supposed to say to that? “I’ll listen to your terms.” He says eventually, and out of the corner of his eye, Kakashi seems to deflate with relief. He rolls his eyes. 

“Thank you.” Her eyes spell out sincerity. “This arrangement, while not ideal, is of utmost importance to the continued peace between our nations.”

“Politically correct, isn’t she?” Naruto mumbles. Behind his back, Sakura loops an arm around him to jab him in the ribs. 

Really, Sasuke is just impressed he used the phrase correctly. 

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” He reminds her, and she flashes him the ghost of a smile. 

“I’m well aware.” She says, inclines her head, and stands again. “Now, you and your team may join me to meet the Council.”

As they walk down the long corridor, their shoes shuffling against the floor, Naruto crosses his arms.

“No way is Sasuke getting married first!” He declares hotly. Sakura, equally incensed, elbows him hard in the side. “You’re just jealous it isn’t you.”

Sasuke makes the executive decision to ignore them. He also ignores the fact that he and Naruto almost went on a date a couple of days ago, even though he refuses to call it that under any circumstances, but it was, most definitely, a date. Even if he never got around to asking him, the coward. He pointedly does not think, does not even consider the possibility that he might be confined to these castle walls for the rest of his miserable life and never get his chance to kill Itachi.

The Council is waiting for them when they arrive. Sasuke looks at them for two seconds and decides that he dislikes them on principle. The one he assumes to be the leader sits cross legged on the ground and glowers at them as they enter. His face is old and pinched at the edges, wrinkles creased into his skin. He frowns like it’s his default expression and it would inconvenience him greatly to make any other expression, if his face could make any other expression than just-swallowed-a-lemon. 

Ayame’s advisor falls into a deep bow, and the rest of them follow his example. (Sasuke’s bow is the most shallow of all of them and the Councilman knows it, too, judging by how his expression sours). Kakashi gives him a look, which, along with several other things, is swiftly ignored. 

“This is the head of my Council, Ito and Ezra of the Ozakayna clan. Ito is my general of war, and Ezra of finances. Each of the Council members is considered an expert in their field and helps to guide my decisions.” She inclines her head respectfully. Ito, the sneer still wrenching his face into something even more unpleasant, like curdled milk, does the same. Contempt drips from him. 

“What’s his problem?” Sakura mutters. He can’t help but agree. 

“It’s a pleasure.” Kakashi greets mildly, his hands in his pockets. He would look relaxed if you weren’t familiar with his mannerisms. 

Ayame waves the pleasantries and gets to the point. “We need to discuss the terms of the marriage. You have the list we agreed upon, correct?”

One of the Councilwoman nods and produces a list that Ayame opens and hands to him with a painstaking amount of care.

“Any of these points are negotiable.” She offers, arranging herself neatly as he glances over the requirements.

They’re… surprisingly lenient.

“The parameters are simple.” Ayame breaks the silence. “We won’t keep you here. You’ll need to learn our culture and government and you’ll need to attend the peace negotiations hereafter, but you’re in no other way indentured to our contract. You’ll need to appear at public festivals and prominent holidays in our culture for the sake of posterity, but otherwise, you’re free to continue your duties as a Konoha Shinobi.”

Sasuke hums thoughtfully. “So what you’re saying is I’m decorative?”

Naruto chokes. 

The corner of her lip twitches upward. “In a sense, but I wouldn’t consider you entirely superfluous. You _do_ serve an important role in uniting our villages, but all the political power lies with me. Are these terms acceptable to you?” 

He looks over the requirements once more, but finds no fault in them.

He sighs. 

It isn’t like he has much of a choice, anyways. He’s a political puppet being bounced around by the marionette strings of the Konoha and Yukigakure governments.

“Yes.”

Naruto makes a sound like a dying animal while Sakura rubs a conciliatory hand over his back. The tension in the room, pulled taut, snaps away in an instant. Both Ayame and Kakashi are visibly relieved. Sasuke resists the urge to curl his lip, because it’s probably unbecoming for someone betrothed to the head of state. He considers doing it anyways. 

He’s betrothed to the ruler of Yukigakure. 

He wants to curl up and groan. This is not how he’d expected this trip to go. 

“I am glad.” Ayame smiles. “In this case, we’ll take your things to your room. As soon as we take your measurements, appropriate clothing will be provided.”

Oh, right. That meant he was staying in a room by himself, instead of sharing one with the rest of his team as would be standard for a mission like this. They might not even be staying in the castle. He shoots a questioning glance over his shoulder at Kakashi, who seems undeterred by the fact that his team is in various stages of disarray, who nods.

"It’s getting pretty late, so we should probably be going. We’ll be back in the morning.” He says.

A reassurance. Sasuke pretends it doesn't make him feel better. 

Sasuke nods sharply and turns back to Ayame, who ushers him forward. Two figures materialize at her sides as the rest of his team trickles back through the hallway to the main gathering. Their masks, opaque and expressionless, are of a particular design. Both of their masks are carved to resemble dragons. 

“ANBU?” He asks. They, predictably, don’t acknowledge him. 

Ayame hums. “Not quite. Our Shinobi system is structured differently then yours. I suppose the direct translation is something like ‘Dragon Guard’.”

Sasuke nods, and the threads of conversation die again. 

They arrive at his room a moment later, and Sasuke doesn’t know how or when they seized his few belongings, and is very concerned by that realization, and he pauses in the doorway.

“Oh, and Sasuke?” She’s wearing a pleasant smile. He arches a disinterested eyebrow.

“As my fiance, you outrank every member of the Council. You're not obliged to bow for anyone.”

His own door slams in his face. 

Despite himself, he laughs.

The next morning is decidedly… awkward. Mostly in the sense that he knows nothing about their customs and the slightest transgression against their culture could mean the Fourth Shinobi War, and he is _right_ The next morning is decidedly… awkward. Mostly in the sense that he knows nothing about their customs and the slightest transgression against their culture could mean the Fourth Shinobi War, and he is right in the center of enemy territory. He wakes up at dawn and spends the next few hours pacing. The sun tells him it’s about seven in the morning when the tailors descend upon him like vultures to a carcass. 

If there’s one thing he can appreciate about them, however, it’s their efficiency. They don’t linger as they frantically scribble down numbers that mean nothing to him and pour over fabric choices and colors. 

“We already have an outfit prepared,” One of the tailors confesses. “We’ll just need to adjust it a little. It should be prepared for you by the time you’re done presenting yourself.” She nods to the bathroom on the other side of the room and then she’s gone, her basket of tape measures and needles gone with her. 

If nothing else, the bathroom is ornate, and there’s hot water. He can’t really ask for anything else.

Back in his old house back in the Uchiha Compound, there had been a point where the shower head had refused to produce hot water at all. The problem hadn't extended to any other faucet in the house. He spent hours considering it, trying to puzzle out the issue. It took him longer to realize that he would probably need to get a plumber, or someone equally educated about the issue, and even longer then that he didn’t have any idea who to call. So, hot water is a godsend. He could indulge himself and just stand beneath the highly pressurized water for entirely too long, but he summons whatever remains of his self restraint and turns the water off. 

Royal blue robes sit delicately on the heavy comforter of the bed. He gives it an appraising once over before deciding his scrutiny isn’t worth the effort and slipping the heavy fabric on. 

Not twenty minutes later, a guard shows up to escort him to the breakfast hall. There sits all the other politicians, and the watchful eyes of the Shinobi clinging close to the walls like shadows. He spots Kakashi, Naruto and Sakura among them, and the three of them are staring at him none too subtly. Naruto in particular. He isn’t sure what to make of that.

He is guided into the chair next to Ayame’s. She offers him a standard polite smile, and he inclines his head in response.

He has… no idea what he’s supposed to do. No one is really looking at him - other than the rest of the Rookie 9 (when did they get here?), he realizes with no small amount of resentment. Both Hinata and Neji are staring at him like he grew a second head. 

Decorative. He’s supposed to be decorative.

He put up with Orochimaru for two years. He put up with Kabuto and his creepy ass human-rights-violation dungeon for two years. Two years of tunnels and snakes and the ever-present threat of becoming just another of Kabuto’s _prized lab rats_ if he didn’t behave himself.

This is _nothing_.

All he has to do is sit here and play the part.

Easy, right?

Sasuke, who has not regularly eaten breakfast since he was seven, does not understand the appeal of so much heavy food so early in the morning. Kabuto tried to actually explain it to him, once, before he became aware that Sasuke would much rather disembowel him than listen to any of his lectures concerning biology. He’s also sick and tired of politics, and it has only been thirty minutes. In his humble opinion, if the issue cannot be solved through physical altercation, then he has no business dealing with it. This falls starkly in the cannot be solved through physical altercation category, and thus, he will do whatever it takes to avoid taking part in the conversation. Occasionally, someone will reference him and his… position. He’s very, very lucky that Ayame redirects any threads of conversation before they can be spun his way. He hasn’t actually had to say a word since any of this started.

About an hour in, they pause for a break, and the Shinobi are allowed to browse the buffet. He has no idea if he’s supposed to stay by Ayame’s side or if he’s free to meet with his team. He takes the chance. 

He makes a break for his team upon the first opportunity. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Kakashi asks mildly. He sounds disinterested, but he doesn’t have his awful book with him. Sasuke snarls wordlessly, which is definitely unbecoming of his newly acquired position, and crosses his arms. 

“Does it _look_ like I’m enjoying myself?” 

His hand itches for his sword, which he’d been forced to leave behind in his room. Sakura catches the movement with a raised eyebrow.

Naruto grabs both of them by the wrists and whisks them towards the pastry section. All manner of food is stacked high on silver plates. Some of the Shinobi are picking at it, but most keep their distance. 

“What are those?” Sakura peers curiously down into the plate. 

“Cardamom buns!” Naruto exclaims. Before them is a place of freshly baked little spirals of almond-sprinkled dough. Naruto takes two. “This one has vanilla!”

“I think I ate too much earlier…” Sakura mumbles, and then takes one anyways. Sasuke turns back towards the delegation, and spots a highly unwelcome trio coming towards them - namely, Team 10. Sasuke would really prefer not to deal with them. He turns to return to the table, but he’s too late.

“Never thought I’d see you as a trophy husband.” Kiba remarks. Akamaru huffs next to him. Sakura, meanwhile, is engaged in conversation with Ino, complete with hair twirling and flirtatious smiles and everything. Sasuke rolls his eyes. Naruto, too, is preoccupied with the cinnamon buns.

“Did you come all the way over here to say that?”

“Maybe.” Kiba grins, sharp-toothed. 

They… haven’t gotten along since the whole ‘betrayal’ incident. 

“Hey, at least she’s pretty?”

He isn’t sure if this is supposed to be a consolation, if Kiba is still mocking him, or if he’s genuinely trying to make conversation. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure it out because Naruto siddles up behind him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, diverting the focus of the conversation. 

“Does this mean Kakashi’s gonna walk you down the aisle?”

He feels Chidori gathering at the tips of his fingers, and it takes the combined force of Sakura and Ino to restrain him from skewering the both of them. 

“Sasuke!” Sakura hisses. “You can’t kill anyone here! This is a peace meeting!”

But it was okay if they were on the same side, right? 

Kiba, who’s now hiding behind Naruto, grins. 

“Talk about bridezilla.”

“You know.” Sasuke starts, before he can activate Chidori again and end everyone’s misery. “As the fiance of the Princess, I outrank you?”

The look on Naruto and Kiba’s face is priceless. Sasuke turns on the Sharingan for a moment just to capture it and fully drink in the smug triumph. 

“And now it’s your job to protect me. So, as your client and superior, I implore you to shut up.”

With that, he turns, and takes his seat at Ayame’s side.

(If he sees her smiling into her sleeve, he ignores it).

Unfortunately, lunch is a meal he’s required to participate in. 

Ayame whispers that its custom that she begin eating first, and then him, and that it’s a great offense to refuse food - something about it being suspicious, and a long history of poison-related assassination attempts. 

So it’s really ironic, given said history of assassination attempts, that halfway through the next round of negotiations, he starts coughing up blood. 

He spots a brilliant red down the front of his outfit, the shocked gasps of the attendees, his own wet hacking sending sharp waves of pain through his chest, and Naruto’s face hovering too close to his own, and thinks, _his eyes are very blue_ , before he blacks out.

He wakes up in an unfamiliar bed with the smell of antiseptic clinging to him. He hears shuffling around him, and a frantic, “I think he’s waking up!” before he finally forces his eyes open and the bright light nearly blinds him. With a groan, he pushes himself into a sitting position, but Sakura all but slams her palm into his shoulder and pushes him back down with an undignified squeak.

“Don’t move!” She scolds. “You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

A little late for that.

“Poison?” He asks. His throat is dry and it feels like he swallowed a handful of razor blades.

“Poison.” Sakura confirms. “Real nasty thing. Very potent.” She rolls up her sleeves. “You’re lucky I was there. This stuff kills in under an hour. Any longer and there might have been permanent damage to your organs.”

“Lovely.” 

“You have many new people vying for your death.” Kakashi adds, unhelpfully.

“More than usual?”

“I’m afraid so.” 

With a groan, he props himself up on his elbows, ignoring Sakura’s heated glare. 

“Sasuke!” Naruto exclaims. “I thought you were dead! Coughing up blood - and - and-”

“That tends to happen when you get poisoned.” He replies dryly. 

“He carried you here.” Sakura points out, also unhelpful. 

“Thank you for pointing out that observation.” He hisses. 

Ayame watches their bickering with wide eyes. She’s forgone the veil, but her hair is still done up with silver clips. Her clothes complement his - a slightly lighter blue with white embroidery. He looks down at his own blood-splattered clothes. 

“It only took you a couple hours to ruin these ones.” Kakashi points out cheerfully. He bristles. He might have gained a…. Little bit of a reputation for ruining clothes during training - either burning them with fire or singing them with lightning or shredding them by any other means, and, of course, the blood stains. Those never really came out. 

“If I might interrupt,” Ayame clears her throat. She’s poised even when there’s no one important watching. He supposes it’s probably ingrained. “We should probably discuss the implications of the attempt on your life.”

Sasuke resigns himself to his fate.

He was supposed to be protecting people from assassination attempts, he’s not supposed to be on the recieving ends of them. 

“It is… particularly important that you’re Konoha-aligned.” She starts carefully. “This situation is… dire. It was not only your food that we found poisoned, it just so happened that you and I chose different drinks. If we weren’t to drink first, then I’m sure many more people would have shared the same unfortunate state. I expected assassination attempts, as did many of my attendees, but your situation was only known to a select few people here, and I suppose the same is true of Konoha?” She raises a perfect eyebrow at Kakashi, who nods.

“Then this means that we have someone trying to sabotage the peace negotiations, and not just an attempt on my life.”

“Why does anyone want to kill you?” Naruto frowns. 

“She’s the head of-”

“I know that, but… it’s not like that person would become king or anything, right?”

“Correct.” Ayame’s lips quirk up. 

“So you were paying attention during the debriefing-!”

“Many… disapprove of my ruling. My father angered many clans during his time as ruler - particularly the Erba clan. I’m sure many would be pleased if I was removed from a position of power. Luckily for them, I don’t intend to continue my father’s way of ruling.”

“Oh…” Naruto hunches his shoulders forward. “So you must have a lot of enemies, then.”

“Yes. And many of them are in attendance right now. There is no way of knowing who is responsible for this incident, unfortunately, and the guests have worked themselves into a panic. If you’re well enough to present yourself, we need to reassure them that you’re alive as quickly as possible.”

Sakura stills. “It would be bad for the peace effort if you Konoha aligned fiance were to die at the peace meetings that Yukigakure is hosting, wouldn’t it?” 

“Extraordinarily. We need to prove that you’re well before rumor spreads.”

Sasuke knows for a fact that rumors carry much more power than anyone gives them credit for. If word of his demise was to reach Konoha…. Well, in that case, war would be unavoidable. If they want to prevent that, then they should probably do something about it pretty soon. 

“Okay.” He grimaces, sliding off the bed. His clothes are stiff and bloodstained and his eyes are bloodshot - he’s not sure if that’s an aftereffect of the poison or something else - and he probably looks like death incarnate, but the last thing he wants anyone to think is that he got killed by poison.

“I’m ready.”

Sakura makes a disapproving noise behind him, and she and Naruto help steady him while he gets situated (until he bats their hands away, though there’s no heat to it) and they all stumble towards the gathering, where he can already hear the distressed noises of the guests at his assumed death. By poison, of all things. No. If there were going to be rumors about his death, they wouldn’t stem from this situation. 

With a sigh, he swipes a hand down his face.

This is shaping up to be a long, long month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly just the marriage itself being explained. Things really start to pick up in the next chapters. Sasuke's mostly in denial about every emotion he's ever felt so he hasn't had extremely volatile reactions to the marriage.... yet.
> 
> Anyways I finally figured out how to format and I'm going to go back and fix the last chapter.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! :)


	3. The Beginner's Guide to Unexpected Marriages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning:  
> \- (very very brief) heavily implied that an adult makes inappropriate comments to a minor, no actual description of these comments
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter! I'm having a lot of fun writing this. From here on out there should be more focus on the characters and their relationships themselves.
> 
> This probably has a lot of mistakes because it's not beta-read so I apologize in advance.

In this comparatively small room, with only Kakashi at his side and Ayame seated across from him, scrolling through an extensive catalog of marriage traditions, conversation more personal and intimate than he prefers. There is no physical distance to fall back upon, so he reverts to the reflexive barrier of silence. After the general public had been assured of his survival half a day earlier, the last of their worries assuaged (with a thinly veiled warning to come to expect this type of happenstance for the month to come) and extra security measures promised, they had hunkered down for the last section of negotiations for the night, which he spent the duration of half-conscious and struggling to keep himself upright. Now is time to handle the main event and, apparently, sort out every minutiae of detail that accompanies it. 

Wedding traditions are very, _very_ important in Yukigakure. More so than he considers, or ever _had_ considered, necessary. He himself doesn’t see the novelty, but he recognizes that this event is, first and foremost, a flashy display meant to placate the war-hungry masses. 

Kakashi, seated casually next to him, despite being underdressed compared to the both of them (Sasuke is now wearing new, bloodstain-free clothes), nudges him with a knee, and he zones back in.

“-most of the presentation itself is being handled by Elrich.” She stacks her paperwork neatly together. “So we don’t need to concern ourselves with that. It’s more important to get you acquainted with our customs. You’ll need them come the wedding day, and you’ll need to interact with the negotiations more, so I’ll get you briefed on that etiquette, too.”

Apparently, his face must express something other than monotonous stoicism, because she smiles wryly. Good. He detests these sorts of things.

“Don’t worry. I will still be handling the majority of the negotiations, but I think it best if you contribute. It might be beneficial for you to consult with the Konoha representative…” She trails off thoughtfully. 

“Why?” He frowns. 

“Well…” Her expression sours. “A couple of reasons. For posterity’s sake, it shows your investment as well as your intelligence. The second… well, I’m sure you’ve heard the more _unsavory_ remarks. This would help to dissuade them.”

He considered himself to have a pretty solid grasp on the Northern tongue, so he certainly had caught the more… tasteless remarks about him that the diplomats didn’t seem to realize he understood. But, well, he had dealt with lecherous gazes before, and nothing could be worse than that time Orochimaru had sent him to meet a client at an establishment that was most definitely an unregistered brothel and everyone that stumbled upon him seemed to have their own piece to add (that had been just one of the many, _many_ reasons he took great satisfaction in killing the snake bastard). 

“Remarks?” Kakashi asks, as if he isn’t painfully aware of what type they are. Sasuke rolls his eyes while Ayame frowns. 

“Many assume you aren’t familiar with the language that therefore figure they can make whatever… derogatory remarks they wish. I apologize deeply for them, but if you follow my advice, you should avoid similar happenings in the future.”

Sasuke hums, and she moves on to the next topic.

“Familial participation is extremely important during these ceremonies.” She starts very seriously. Sasuke balances his chin on his palm. “Elrich will be assuming the roles and responsibilities of the father in this situation. You have agreed to fill the same niche?”

Kakashi agrees amiably. Unfortunately for him, Kakashi is the closest thing to an adult that he actually sort-of-grudgingly-doesn’t-hate-and-might-even-sort-of-like that he’s going to find on such short notice, so they’ll both have to make do. 

“Now there’s the question of parental consent. I am not intimately familiar with Konoha law, but am I correct to assume that, upon becoming Shinobi, you are considered legal adults?”

Sasuke nods.

“There’s a long history of child marriage here, unfortunately. My father created a law that requires any person under sixteen to have parental consent to marry. I do not know how the laws translate quite yet. I think it would be safest if you sign now, as a simple formality.”

As Kakashi leans over to sign, Sasuke asks, “Would that law solve the problem?”

“No children fourteen or younger are allowed to marry at all.” She clarifies. “And getting a marriage license at fifteen is exceedingly difficult, except in… extenuating circumstances.”

He figures this would qualify.

Kakashi slides the document back to her. 

“Thank you,” She sighs, and beneath her makeup, there are dark bags beneath her eyes. “Your cooperation is making this go very smoothly.”

Sasuke would like nothing more than to be extremely uncooperative, maybe follow up on a few of the Chidori threats he made. Unfortunately, he has no such luxury, and neither does she. Neither does anyone here, really. 

“Another thing.” She starts, as if remembering something. “I forgot to tell you earlier. I convinced the Council to let us incorporate Uchiha marriage traditions into the ceremony. Nothing too overt, I’m afraid, but if you have any requests, I’ll do my best to accommodate.” 

That’s… strangely considerate, and he’s almost embarrassed to say that he isn’t familiar with most Uchiha wedding ceremonies. He doesn’t actually know all that much about his own clan’s customs, besides the burial rituals, and isn’t that a depressing thought. His memories are hazy, but he can only ever remember attending one wedding ceremony - for his cousin, he thinks. He can’t access the scrolls detailing this knowledge, and before this point he never had any reason to look at them at all. Consumed by his ambition to kill Itachi, there hadn't really been much room for anything else. 

He doesn’t want to admit to it, though, so he bites his tongue and dips his head.

“I’d also like to tell you that, when we aren’t seen in public together, you’re welcome to pursue any other relationships. The basis for our marriage is primarily political. I’m well aware that it isn’t romantic. I wouldn’t publicize it, but you are in no way tethered to me, nor am I to you.”

She’s staring at him very thoughtfully. He isn’t sure what she’s trying to imply, and he doesn’t like not knowing things. 

She only smiles at his heated glare, and it almost seems like she and Kakashi are sharing some inside joke, because they’re both looking at him like that now. 

He rolls the hem of his sleeve between his fingers and impatiently waits for them to move on with the conversation or tell them what it is they think is so funny. Unfortunately, Ayame bulldozes right over the subject with less tact than Kakashi, which is a feat in and of itself, and switches bluntly and unabashedly to the subject of clothes. 

“Do you have a preferred or traditional color?” She twirls the pen in her finger.

“Dark.” He says, without really thinking about it. All of the clothes he can remember at the one wedding he’s ever been to had been dark in one way or another. There had been black and dark blue but he doesn’t remember who was wearing what, so ‘dark’ is going to have to suffice. She nods and writes it down in her perfectly neat handwriting. It’s actually kind of impressive, not that he’d ever admit to saying that. 

“Anything else?”

He shakes his head.

“Alright. I’ll give this to Elrich. Do you have anything else you wish to ask?”

He considers for a minute, and decides he has nothing to lose by asking the question he’s been mulling over for the past couple of months, ever since he saw firsthand the fighting in the Land of Rice. It’s a war torn country in its own right. Unlike the Land of Waves, which is still riddled with gang war and the overshadowing hand of businessmen like Gato, it’s made up mostly of tribes that are locked in an eternal sort of conflict (probably due to the fact that they could be considered ‘mercenary tribes’, like what the Uchiha and Senju had been during the Warring States Period) that occasionally choose to band together - usually in light of coming war. He’d been sent out more than once to secure alliance to Otogakure and he’d seen more than one gathering of two or more different tribes. A little more snooping had informed him that several of them had been hired by the same nation - but he’d never been told which. He’d have known if it was Konoha (because Kabuto had the annoying and baffling habit of holding scraps of knowledge concerning Konoha over his head as if he actually cared), and he had it narrowed down to Kurigakure, Lightning country, or Snow. 

“What’s the real reason for the treaty failing?”

He isn't buying the ‘economic decline’ that had been publicized. Beside him, Kakshi raises an eyebrow, his expression guardedly chastising. It’s silent for a beat too long before Ayame sighs.

“It’s within your right to know.” She says. “Kakashi, I assume you’re already aware?”

Sometimes, Sasuke forgets that his lazy, chronically-late, porn-reading teacher is actually one of the most talented Shinobi in the leaf and has a kill count in the thousands and used to be an ANBU captain. It’s a bit difficult to reconcile the two images in his head, so he stares for a minute. 

“I am.” He confirms. Sasuke watches curiously.

“Konoha has… a history of trafficking, yes?” 

He’s aware. Orochimaru had been a large player in that. Too bad he hadn't stuck around to see the result of upending an entire underground criminal syndicate. Watching that might’ve been enjoyable, at least. Orochimaru’s mutants running around wrecking havoc would’ve been amusing, if nothing else. He wonders how Oto is doing. If they’ve found a new dictator yet. Maybe he’ll check up on that sometime. Just for fun. For old time’s sake.

“There’s evidence to suggest that many missing Yukigakure Shinobi and citizens ended up involved with it, which is something the treaty explicitly prohibited.”

Sasuke would _not_ be surprised if Orochimaru had some Yukigakure people down in those creepy ass prisons of his, what with all the kekkei genkai experimentation he was involved in. Karin might know. Last he checked, she was securing all those tunnels that led to the… more _dangerous_ of Orochimaru’s experiments. Couldn’t just let all of those things go running across the countryside. 

“I might know someone who could check.” He offers, flat. 

“Oh?” She perks up, the bright sheen of curiosity gleaming behind her professional mask. “I had heard rumors that you were involved with Orochimaru at one point-”

“They’re true.” He says. “He wanted to possess me.”

He lets that hang there for a second.

“And yet you still went with him.” Kakashi says mildly, and, well, looks like there’s still some lingering anger beneath that decision, so Sasuke stares ahead, steadfast, until Kakashi looks away. 

“Hmm.” Ayame looks… very concerned by that, but wisely chooses not to comment. “And you knew people involved with that syndicate?”

“Yes. After I killed Orochimaru, three others helped me clean up his mess. One of them was in charge of the prisoners. She might know if there were any there.”

He doesn’t really know where they were getting their ‘proof’ from, because Orochimaru’s prisons were secure - Karin had made sure of that. Once, Suigetsu had tripped the alarms to annoy her, or something, and she had actually almost killed him. It was impressive.

Kakashi watches him curiously. He’s well aware that he hasn’t mentioned Team Hebi before. 

“That’s quite helpful. Do tell me if you find anything out.”

He grunts, and gestures for her to continue. 

“There’s also the Konoha soldiers spotted near the border. Your ANBU.” She’s looking at Kakashi, now. “Not to mention your affiliation with both the Land of Rice and the Land of Waves as well as Suna. I’m sure you’ve heard things about us, as well.”

Sasuke hums. 

“The entire world has been… filled with tension ever since the One Tail’s attack during your exams.”

Oh, that. Sasuke grimaces at the reminder. Shukaku is one nasty bastard.

“They just needed something to set them off.”

He supposes it isn’t out of the question to assume Orochimaru has something to do with this. He had orchestrated the Chunin-exam incident and had significant sway in the Land of Rice and he had connections with some of the ruling gangs in the Land of Waves. 

He keeps his suspicions to himself, for now.

“If that’s all?”

He nods, and they excuse themselves.

“Interesting line of questioning there.” Kakashi says offhandedly. 

“That so?” He replies flatly, used to Kakashi’s games. He’s reading his porn book again.

Sasuke scoffs. “Who let _you_ become an ANBU captain?”

Kakashi pats his head, and instead of trying to defend himself, proclaims that he has to check on Naruto and Sakura now or he’s going to be accused of favoritism. 

Well, this leaves him to his own devices, at least.

He’s sitting in the courtyard when Naoki comes gliding in over the high, regal palace walls. Her wings, dappled with gray and brown, fit in quite well with the forest, but here, against the stark white of the snow-riddled countryside, she’s easy to spot.

He lifts an arm, grateful he thought to wear his arm guard, and the hawk alights gracefully on his arm. 

“Naoki.”

She glares at him and pulls gently at his hair.

“It’s _cold_ out here.” She scowls, fixing him in her disapproving gaze. “If you ever make me fly that far again in this weather, I’ll peck your eyes out.”

“Missed you too.” He grumbles. If hawks could roll their eyes, he’s sure she would. Unceremoniously, she gestures to the letter tied around her foot. “Your report?”

“The same. Otogakure isn’t being overrun by the Sannin’s monstrosities, if that’s what you're worried about. The chakra-girl secured the curse-mark prison. Water-boy and Juugo are organizing the village and weeding out what remains of the Snake’s accomplices. Not that they have much more work to do.” She glares at him pointedly. He doesn't need to ask why Juugo is the only one without a nickname. 

“You’re still mad about that.”

“Yes.” Her talons tighten around her arms. “You make a contract with us and yet you still use those snakes-”

He smooths a hands over her feathers in thanks, and she relaxes. 

“That’s all.”

“Alright.” He says, and then. “Thank you.”

She disappears in a burst of smoke, and he supposes that he’ll have to use another hawk since she’s clearly not willing to make the journey again. Maybe Riku will do it. 

Before he can make the deliberation, Ayame enters his field of awareness. He turns to see her leaving the large, decorated palace doors, flanked on either side by masked guards. There are ones stationed outside too, much to his annoyance. He’s _more_ than capable of defending himself.

“You have hawk summons.” She notes.

And snake summons, but he technically inherited those from Orochimaru and tends not to use them unless he has to. They don’t like each other very much. 

“We have a falconry.”

He raises an eyebrow. 

“It’s up on the highest tower. I find them to be good company. I’m actually in the process of hacking a pair of falcons. Would you like to come with me?”

He hadn't realized they did falconry up here, and he didn’t take Ayame to be the type. 

This is probably a way of ditching the guards, so he’s all in.

“Sure.”

Sasuke’s hawks, as they are summons, are larger than the natural hawk, but he can admit, these are still fairly big. They are large, impressive birds. They are different in their long, curved black claws and pristine white feathers, but their sharp, onyx eyes are familiar. Being surrounded by them reminds him of when he made his contract. He figured that he needed something more versatile then the snakes, and something he got along better with to boot. 

Ayame fusses over the falcons for a moment, and they preen at the contact.

“Some of them used to be summons.” She breaks the silence. Her dress looks out of place among the controlled chaos of the hacking site. “But most of them are just regular falcons.”

He hums.

“This is the only part of the palace grounds that isn’t watched constantly.” She continues. “There are still eyes watching us, of course, but they’re limited. I may speak more freely.”

Had she been restraining herself? For what purpose?

“Not as free as I’d like to be,” She confesses. “But I fear that that won’t come for quite some time.” She unlocks one of the cages. “This is Aella. She’s a fledgling. It will probably take a few more days before she’s confident enough to fly.” 

Summons develop more quickly than their counterparts, as well, so Sasuke has never trained any before. He turns his Sharingan on and watches as she hops to the edge of the cage and flaps her wings uncertainly. By the time Ayame turns back around, his eyes are back to their normal placid dark. 

“Why did you invite me out here?”

“Quite to the point, aren’t you.” Aella hops to her arm guard and peers curiously as Sasuke. “Only to talk. You need to be careful what you say concerning Orochimaru. There are only rumors floating about that hint at your association. Don’t cement their accusations.”

“I _was_ with Orochimaru.”

“I know, but if anyone else is made aware, it might jeopardize the marriage.” 

“Is that the only reason you wanted to talk?”

“No, I…” She presses her lips together into a thin line. “You need to be careful what you say around who. I’ve had suspicions for a while, but the attempt on your life only serves to confirm my fears. The walls have ears. Just keep that in mind.” She opens her mouth, but whatever she’s about to say is promptly cut off when three unfamiliar figures enter his field of awareness. Karin taught him how to sense people - he isn’t quite good at it, and she’s undeniably the master of her field, but he knows enough to realize he doesn’t recognize any of the signatures. 

He unsheathes his chokuto and steps outside into the snow. The cold wind ruffles his hair and cuts bone deep, but he’s pumped too full of adrenaline to consciously recognize it.

His eyes bleed red as he sweeps his gaze across the barren landscape, three tomoe spinning lazily. 

There’s a flicker of movement to his side with a speed that almost rivals his own, but not quite. He whips around, parrying the blow of another sword, the clang of metal reverberating across the hills. 

He channels Chidori, and the light chirping of birds fizzles to life before the assailant - face covered by a ceramic mask - can react. Lightning crackles across his skin and he takes opportunity of his enemy’s confusion, knocking him back a step and thrusting the sword upwards into his ribs. 

He turns around quickly, already forming the seals for _katon_ , his Sharingan letting him track his enemy’s movements before he exhales an explosive gust of roaring flames his way. He whirls around, blocking yet another blow. There’s three of them. One he just incinerated, the other he stabbed, and now there’s this one. He could have sworn there were four before, though. 

Maybe he can figure out where exactly this one’s from, if he casts a genjutsu. 

The three tomoe stop for a second, before spinning faster. The red glow of his eyes cuts through the thick, wafting pillars of smoke and superheated air. But he doesn’t gain easy access to his mind. Instead, a mind numbing stab of pain shoots through his head. He recoils, slightly disoriented, but still evades the spires of ice that start shooting from the ground trying to impale them. He aims more fireballs at them, rounds on the enemy, and runs him through the stomach. Not a fatal wound. All of them are still alive, as far as he can tell, so there’s still the option of interrogation. 

He turns back to the hacking site just in time to see Ayame returning - and the statue of ice in the shape of a person perched behind her, as if ready to attack, before bursting into a thousand shards of ice. 

“My family’s jutsu.” She smiles daintily, at his quirked eyebrow.

The pain behind his eyes hasn’t receded. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and stares down at the armor. It’s strange. He’s never seen anything like it before. He pokes at it with the tip of his sword. 

“They blocked my genjutsu.” He says. Ayame falls to her knees beside him, and tears at his armor. She grimaces slightly at the blood catching the edges of her sleeves, but doesn’t say anything otherwise. 

“Here it is.” She retrieves something that almost looks like a necklace, strung together with pearlescent scales.

He crinkles his nose.

“These scales.” She turns them over. “Yes, these are what blocked your genjutsu.”

“How?”

“I don’t claim to know. The species that produces them is endangered - nearly gone. They were used to make genjutsu-resistant armor, but after we started exporting them, we realized that they lost their effect about a month after they’re harvested. How do they…?” She rain another thumb over the shiny iridescent surface before shaking her head. “We should get them to intelligence-”

She’s cut off as her usual guard appears around her in a blur of movement. 

“Come.” She grabs his wrist. “We should let them do their work.”

The second assassination attempt is all anyone talks about for the next few hours. It’s hardly all that noteworthy, he would argue. His scowling doesn’t seem to deter anyone, unfortunately. It takes him about thirty minutes of a ceaseless barrage of questioning before he finally snaps, and Kakashi has to drag him outside before he skewers anyone. Naturally, they’re quickly joined by Naruto and Sakura while Ayame handles the cleanup.

“I don’t know how she handles them.” Sakura shakes her head. “If it were me-” She cracks her knuckles. Naruto nods eagerly, practically jumping up and down while Kakashi sighs heavily.

“How did I get such violent students?”

“I’ll show you violent!” Naruto yells, and flings himself at him, and then they’re fighting (limiting themself to taijutsu, because there’s no way they can afford to fix any damages they might cause to the palace) like they used to. Kakashi’s mask creases in a way that makes Sasuke sure that he’s smiling, Sakura is laughing as Naruto gets buried in snow, and Sasuke actually manages to land a hit which makes Kakashi look at him, his uncovered eye wide.

“I must be getting old.” He exclaims, and flips Sasuke over. 

With a groan, the two of them unearth Naruto while Kakashi watches in obvious delight, hands in his pockets. They situate themselves on the cold, ornate bench.

“Does it ever get warm here?” Naruto hugs himself, teeth chattering.

“It’s because you’re covered in snow, dumbass.” Sasuke rolls his eyes. 

“It’s mild today.” Sakura offers, as if saying it kindly will make him Naruto feel any better about the loss of sensation in his fingers and toes. “Winter’s almost over here.”

“And how do you know that?” He accuses. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Because I did my research before I came here?”

Naruto groans, loudly. “And we’re stuck here for another _month_? I don’t want to stay here another _day_!” He shivers again. “And how is this mild? It’s below freezing!”

“Oh, definitely.” Sakura replies. “Uh, I think June and July would be the warmest months, here. We might get to twenty degrees, if the weather cooperates.”

“ _Twenty degrees_?” Naruto screeches. 

Sakura looks like she’s enjoying this.

“Yep! Just be grateful we’re not any farther north. Coldest place in the world. Go far enough and it can get to negative one hundred.”

“ _Negative one hundred_ -”

Naruto’s flailing is abruptly cut off as Ayame trails across the courtyard like an apparition, an unfamiliar figure behind her. 

She brushes her dress off delicately. “I’ve cleaned up the issue of the most recent assassination attempt. I'm terribly sorry, Sasuke. Clearly, you don't require the assistance of the guard, but the assailants shouldn't have gotten so close in the first place. As worrisome as it is to say, it seems as though these patterns will continue until, and likely after, the marriage.” She announces, coming to a stop in front of them. “However, everyone is assured of your actions and that we’re both alive. We’re also not allowed off the premises without at least one guard accompanying us.”

Naruto pokes him in the ribs, a shit eating grin on his face, “Hear that? You need a _babysitter_ -”

Sasuke elbows him in the face. Ayame pretends not to see it while Sakura just pinches the bridge of her nose. 

Sasuke looks at the girl beside her, who loops a lazy arm around Ayame’s shoulders. 

“Ah, where are my manners? This is Kalani.”

Kalani smiles, golden eyes flashing. Her long, dark curls bounce around his shoulders. Her tanned arm around Ayame’s shoulder makes her look even paler. “Nice to meet you.” An accent that he can’t place clings to her words. He can relate. Sometimes, the edge of the accent he picked up in Otogakure peaks into his voice and makes his vowels a little too sharp. Naruto likes to make fun of it. Sakura thinks it’s _cute_. 

“We’re dating.” Kalani says. Sakura blinks. Naruto almost falls over. 

“This is why you said we were free to pursue romantic relationships.” He clarifies, and Ayame smiles wryly. “Perhaps.”

“Oh,” Kalani bounces on her heels. “You’re Sasuke, then.” She leans closer, almost a little too close, to study him. “Huh.” She grins. “You _are_ pretty.” She bounds back to lean her chin on Ayame’s shoulder. “But she’s prettier.”

Naruto siddles up next to him and balances an elbow on his shoulder. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Sakura smiles.

“You’re not upset about the marriage?” Naruto asks, like an idiot. Sakura growls at him and Sasuke sighs. He and Kalani look at each other for a minute before she grins, her eyes flicking between them, resting at Naruto’s elbow, and her lips wrench up into a grin. “Nah.” She says. “The marriage is some big political show, right?”

“Yeah…” Naruto echoes, subdued. Sasuke shakes his arm off.

“Sasuke, we have another meeting to attend to.”

Kalani laughs at his face as he stands up grudgingly. Half of his clothes are soaked in snow and he’s shivering. He’s probably gonna get hypothermia. 

Kalani links her arm with his and drags him after Kalani, who’s somehow already crossed the entire threshold of the courtyard, and laughs at his expression. 

He hates his life.

Three hours later, he stands in the courtyard, facing the paved labyrinth of paths surrounding the dragon statue in the center, its head tipped back and claws extended towards the sky, moving fluidly through his routine with his chokuto. He’s garnered company, apparently, because Kakashi watches through lidded gazes from the bench.

“Fix your form!” He calls out between intervals. He huffs and straightens himself out, and then performs the motion again. Kakashi hums approvingly behind him.

“There are rumors that there’s a dragon that lives on the top of that mountain.” 

Sasuke pauses and turns around, arching an eyebrow. “A dragon?”

“So they say.” He grins beneath the mask. “It’s more of an old myth. They say it’s the pet of the moon goddess. Aren’t the Uchiha supposedly descended from dragons?”

Sasuke has no idea where he heard that from.

“No.” He scoffs. “The myth is that we learned our fire from dragons. Dragons don’t exist, Kakashi.”

Maybe his sanity has finally left him, if he’s believing in things like that. But Kakashi doesn’t stop smiling, and only returns to his book.

Sasuke shifts uncomfortably. Kakashi is in a good mood, so now is the perfect time to ask, but… he really doesn’t want to.

“Kakashi.” He clears his throat. “About the Uchiha marriage traditions.”

“... yes?”

Now or never.

“Can you ask Tsunade to send me the records with that information?”

At Kakashi’s silence, he supposes he has to elaborate. He sighs heavily.

“I don’t know anything about them. The massacre happened before I was old enough to know anything, and I can’t access the files on my own. So can you ask her to do it?”

Kakashi’s face softens at the mention of the massacre, which makes Sasuke want to punch him, but he controls himself. 

“Why don’t you ask her?”

He scrunches his nose up. “She doesn’t like me.”

It’s not like he’s really offended by it, it’s just a fact. He doesn’t really care about her opinion enough to be offended. 

Kakashi sighs. “Alright, brat, I’ll talk to her.”

He drops his eyes to the ground. 

“...Thank you.” 

The next day is spent in Ayame’s chambers once again, pouring over even more paperwork. 

“The Spring Festival is in three days.” She explains, showing him a printed picture - apparently, the flyers had been posted all around town. “It’s the only holiday of ours where you actually need to interact with the public.”

How _wonderful_.

“It’s nothing excessive. Some people might just be interested in where you came from, or your clan. The only thing you’re required to do is speak civilly.”

He levels her with the flattest gaze he can muster. She laughs. 

“It’s a two day celebration. We’re only required to attend for one day, and it’ll likely be the first one. We don’t need to attend the night festival, either.”

“Night festival?”

“The celebration continues through the night.” She waves a hand. “The only real difference is that that one offers fireworks. Anyways, I’ll make a speech, and then we’ll walk around town next to the great dragons and I narrate the myth of creation for the children. You also have to interact with the children.”

He scowls. 

“It’s only for a day.” She offers him a smile, and circles something. “The end of the parade will bring us to the temple of the Moon. You’re not required to pray. Do you understand?”

He nods. His Sharingan captured most everything he’d need to.

“Good. In that case, you’re dismissed.”

He spares another glance at the files, and nods.

Once, when they were twelve and under Kakashi’s dutiful tutelage, he’d decided that their reflexes were, in his words, ‘terrible and pathetic’, and had chosen to address this situation by dumping the three of them, sleeping bags and all, in the closest river he could find. This is the _only_ time he’s ever been grateful for the lesson.

He’s woken in the thick of night by the squeak of a window opening. Already, the Sharingan has flashed to life and his fingers clenched around the hilt of his sword, adrenaline poured straight into his veins. Three attackers. 

One lunges in the dark. Sasuke kicks him in the chest so hard he goes flying into the wall. He whirls around and nails the other one in the head so hard he passes out. The third, sporting a jutsu that’s almost certainly a kekkei genkai, catches him off guard with the truly horrifying ability to unhinge his own jaw like a snake, and Sasuke has spent more than enough time around Orochimaru’s experiments to identify what was truly horrifying, that bit him in the arm. A well placed Chidori puts an end to that, but he’s still kind of recoiling. 

“ _Why_ ,” The one he kicked and probably broke the ribs of wheezes, “Do you sleep with a _sword_?”

Sasuke doesn’t dignify that with an answer. 

The box of documents arrives later that day. Sasuke has no idea how Tsunade procured and delivered the files so quickly, and he has no desire to understand. Instead, he sits on the floor decorated by rugs, elbow deep in his clan’s history, while Sakura sits next to him making eyes at Ino, arranging the flowers outside the room, and Naruto naps on his other side. He’s not really asleep, but it’s close enough. 

“Another assassination attempt?” Sakura finally tears her eyes away from Ino. “They’re persistent, I’ll give them that.”

“You’d know.” He mutters, and she makes an indignant sound.

“Is this gonna become a daily thing?” She’s looking at Ino again. Sasuke sighs.

The box is old, and the files are older. He’s almost concerned that the documents, yellowed and crinkled with age, will disintegrate when he tries to pull them out. The second thing he notices is that it’s all handwritten and not even his Sharingan helps to decipher whatever the fuck this says.

“Who the _fuck_ wrote this?” He hisses, squinting at it. Sakura glances over his shoulder, and he almost wants to tell her to stop looking at his family secrets, except neither of them know what it says, so. 

“Maybe ask Kakashi?” Sakura shrugs. “His handwriting is pretty bad.”

Sasuke snorts and stands up, offering her a hand. She takes it. They both glance down at Naruto, who’s _actually_ asleep, apparently.

“Leave him.” She says, and they embark on the grand journey of locating Kakashi.

The _one_ perk of this situation is that Sasuke can go practically wherever he wants and not be told off. Unlimited freedom, in a limited scope, of course. The downside is that Sakura is also very well aware of this and is currently abusing this privilege to rifle through the head medic’s files. 

“This is illegal.” He informs her flatly.

“Since when have you ever cared?” She replies.

Fair point.

So he lets her do whatever it is she’s doing and stands guard at the door. Eventually, she comes back with a smug expression on her face and tells him to memorize whatever is on the page with his Sharingan for ‘future reference’. 

Between the two of them, Sakura might actually be the better criminal, and that’s… worrisome.

He does it anyways, mostly because he doesn’t care and he doesn’t understand any of the medical jargon at all. Nevertheless, the Sharingan preserves it perfectly in his memory, and they set off once again.

“What was that, anyways?” He asks. One of the guards eyes them warily as they pass through the hallway. Sakura latches onto his arm and looks up through her eyelashes, a winning smile on her face as they’re reminded of who Sasuke is. 

“It had a detailed list of poisons and how to treat them.” She replies. “I haven’t seen most of them so I’m willing to bet Tsunade hasn’t either. I want them as insurance.”

Sure, right, of course.

They enter the main hall, and Kakashi is engaged in conversation with a man neither of them have ever seen in their lives. He’s not a Shinobi, from what they can tell. 

“Ooh,” Sakura pauses with a cheshire grin. “Let’s listen to what he’s saying.”

“Why?” He asks, but doesn’t resist as they duck behind the table. “You do realize that this looks much more suspicious than standing, right?”

She ignores him. 

“Are they… _flirting_?” The look of horror on Sakura’s face would be comical if he wasn’t equally horrified. “I think they are.”

He doesn’t know enough about flirting to weigh in, but considering Sakura spent a considerable amount of time trying to get him to date her when they were twelve, he’ll take her word for it. 

" _Who is that_?" She hisses, edging closer. "I can't see his face!"

“We need to save him.” He says.

“Kakashi can take care of himself.” She replies, still glaring over the table.

“I wasn’t talking about Kakashi.”

She snorts. 

“Uchiha!” She shoves his shoulder, covering her mouth to prevent the undignified giggle rising in her throat. “When’d you get a sense of humor?”

He instead jerks his head in their direction, and suddenly the man is gone and Kakashi is right next to them.

“... what are you two doing hiding behind the table?” He has that suspicious note in his voice like that time they kept trying to see behind his mask, but that memory kind of makes his chest hurt so he doesn’t think about it.

Instead of answering, he stands and presents to him the file.

“Can you read it?” Sakura asks.

Kakashi squints at it. “Not really.”

Sakura deflates. “Are you sure?”

“Why would I be able to read it?”

“Because you have bad penmanship.” Sakura replies brightly as Sasuke plucks the file from his fingers. It feels strange letting anyone outside the clan look at them - the elders were always so stern about it. He wonders how they felt about Kakashi having a Sharingan. They probably hadn't taken too kindly to that. 

Kakashi fakes looking insulted. “I’m hurt, kids.” 

“Thanks anyways!” Sakura waves, grabs his wrist, and yanks him away.

Sakura disappears sometime in the next half an hour, spouting something about shadowing a medic here and being late. Naruto wakes up after that, and it leaves the two of them in silence, Sasuke digging through what’s left of his dead clan’s legacy and Naruto picking at the carpets. 

Eventually, he finds something sealed away in a bag. A white clip. He stares at it, and looks back at the name written on the bag.

 _Mikoto_.

His heart seizes. 

He stares down at the stupid hairpiece in his stupid trembling fingers, and for a moment the air is white noise and static and he’s not breathing, and the next Naruto is bumping his leg with his knee, still splayed out on the floor like he owns the place. 

“You okay?” He asks, uncharacteristically quiet. Sasuke takes a deep breath, and tucks the hairpiece back away in its bag.

“Fine.” He says, leaning back to lay next to him. Then, “Why were you being weird earlier?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes. “When Kalani showed up. You were acting… odd.”

Naruto sputters something and pointedly looks anywhere but him. Eventually, he sighs. 

“You’re not gonna, like, leave Konoha again, right?”

“What?” He frowns. One of the most explicit parts of the contract promised that he _wouldn’t_ have to stay here. 

“Like-” He rambles. “Like, I guess you just have the option to stay. And no one could stop you. Because that would be, like, legal, and maybe even better for the alliance - I should stop giving you reasons-”

He rolls his eyes and breathes a long, heavy sigh. “ _I_ was the one who came back, dumbass. Nobody had to drag me. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Naruto heaves a relieved sigh.

“Yeah, of course. You’re not getting rid of us that easily!”

The edge of his lip quirks up, and he forces it back down.

Naruto grins, bright and wide. Sasuke looks away.

 _I’m right here, loser_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of these disaster children. I love writing them all. So much. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Fireworks, and the Best Way to Ruin a National Celebration

The whole disaster of a day starts with he and Ayame arguing (insofar as either of them can argue; Ayame refuses to raise his voice and Sasuke refers to get invested enough in anything to actually be bothered about it), but he’s well aware that their ‘argument’ is highly unproductive and banking on hostility, and it’s mostly stress born, but it’s very abruptly interrupted when Kakashi drops from the ceiling like a fucking bat. 

“Trouble in paradise?” He grins.

Sasuke, mostly on reflex, but also very sincerely, replies, “I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

Kakashi hums contemplatively and pats his head. “I’m sure you will.”

Ayame looks on, baffled by their… unorthodox dynamic. 

“Princess.” He inclines his head respectfully. 

Ayame adopts her pleasant smile again from where it had been hooked on a frown, tension fixed around her mouth. 

“The Hokage wished for me to deliver a message for you.” He turns to look at Sasuke, who grumbles at the effort, and leaves. 

The festival is tomorrow, unfortunately. He has everything memorized, but that doesn’t make the action of doing them any less tedious. He bides his time in the courtyard. He’s already counted all of the flowers and what type and color they are, memorized every single crack in the statue before him. He can only practice Chidori so many times before he loses his mind, and it’s not like he can practice _Kirin_ in the middle of the palace grounds. He can only imagine what the political repercussions of that would be. 

A flutter of movement catches his eye over the palace wall - a black, white and brown blur of movement hurtles towards him at a truly disconcerting speed, but he recognizes the shape almost immediately. Riku swoops over his head and drops several notes in his lap before doing a loop around the great spires of the palace and landing on his arm. If hawks could smirk, Riku would be. 

“There are _polar bears_ out there.” He points out, gesturing towards the gates. Sasuke hums.

“You should tell Sakura.”

He makes a displeased noise. “The last time I tried to talk to strawberry she nearly punted me into a wall.” 

He snorts. “That’s because you lunged at her. And don’t let her hear you calling her that, or she’ll follow through this time.”

Riku’s feathers ruffle as he huffs, his shiny black eyes turning towards him.

“Where’s the dog-guy and his rat?”

Normally, he would assume that this would refer to Kiba, but Riku’s never met Kiba, so that means-

“Pakkun’s not here, so you can’t terrorize him. I don’t know where Kakashi is.”

“You’re no fun.”

Sasuke absentmindedly runs his fingers through Riku’s glossy feathers while he preens, unfolding the letters with great care as to make sure none of them blow up in his face - Suigetsu had tried that shit with him once and, while he hadn't actually gotten caught in the blast, he was fully prepared to behead him if it weren’t for Juugo’s mediation. The first one is undeniably Juugo’s handwriting, but every word is capitalized to read ‘CONGRATS ON GETTING HITCHED! KARIN’S SUPER PISSED! Followed by a hastily scribbled ‘transcribed by Juugo’ in the corner. Oh, that’s right. Suigetsu can’t write. 

Of course Karin’s anger was the thing he chose to focus on. 

He moves onto the next letter - Juugo’s update concerning the state of Otogakure. He skims through it, receiving the usual reports. They had declined to elect another Kage of any sort, after the Orochimaru disaster. Official positions of leadership are still up in the air for the most part, but they were getting along well enough. They were looking to re-establish trade routes with the Land of Rice under hopefully more civil terms. _‘You’re a little bit of an urban myth down here’_ , Juugo writes. His handwriting is very neat and even. _‘They call you Snake Killer.’_

He grimaces at that. Not at the nickname itself - he’s nothing but satisfied with his disposal of Orochimaru, but rather the association it denotes. He had made a name for himself, back in Otogakure, in the cesspools of the city - in the illegal gambling pools. Technically, _any_ gambling was illegal, but the unaffiliated third parties that bet on the fighting rings that Orochimaru so often threw him into were _extra_ illegal. There was nothing official to tie him back to the Uchiha clan, or anything that even claimed him under the name ‘Sasuke’. He’d been forbidden from using the Sharingan altogether to avoid association. If it were too widely publicized that Orochimaru had gotten his hands on an Uchiha, he can’t imagine anyone would be too happy - the last of one of the core clans of Konoha falling into Orochimaru’s clutches? He’s certain that would raise some questions that Konoha wouldn’t be able to answer - how hadn't they dealt with Orochimaru sooner? 

The unfortunate truth behind that was that Orochimaru had been, to some extent, imbursed and enabled by Konoha. The Third failed to exterminate him as he rightfully should have. He also has contacts with ANBU, but Sasuke has yet to figure out who the link is. Kabuto knew people, he’s sure, but he hadn't the time nor the intent to rifle around in Kabuto’s fucked up experimentation dungeons for too long trying to find an answer, or any physical proof. If Yukigakure was ever privy to that sort of information, it would definitely push them over the edge. Maybe that’s why the Council decided to be so lenient on him upon his return - certainly they had to be aware of how much sensitive information he and Hebi could divulge. 

(Not to mention the highly classified thinly-veiled-act-of-terrorism Karin had commited once she discovered his intention to return to Konoha and her threat to leak all of their secrets to the rest of the world if they killed him).

Riku pulls at his ear.

“What is it?”

“They call me Snake Killer down there.” 

Riku regards him with strange, dark eyes. All of his hawks have the same unnerving ability to peer straight into your soul. “Do you wish you stayed?”

“Speaking in hypotheticals is useless.” He reminds him pointedly. Riku opens his wings.

“Alright, alright! I was just sayin’. I liked your creepy little snake village. Weather was decent. No fucking _polar bears_.”

“Polar bears aren’t a natural predator of hawks.” He says flatly.

“ _You don’t know that_!” He flaps his wings wildly and Sasuke holds his arm away from his face to avoid getting cuffed in the head by a wayward wing. “You think that polar bear wouldn’t eat me?”

“I can hope.”

He winces as Riku tugs at his hair. “Naoki was right. You _are_ an ungrateful brat, snake boy.”

“That’s worse than snake-killer.”

“Then why don’t you get rid of your snake summons?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and quickly studies the rest of the letter. They’re trying to map the extensive labyrinth of tunnels Orochimaru has and deal with them accordingly, including whatever the fuck is living inside them (he learned quickly not to wander, and not to get too curious. After witnessing the visceral horror that was the monstrosity Orochimaru called _Kokufu_ for some ungodly reason, he had decided he’d seen enough of what atrocities those tunnels had to offer). Apparently, they’re also in severe need of infrastructural overhaul. Medical supplies and doctors are some of the big ones. He pauses at the farewell, and at the little paw print inked next to it with another name next to it. _Keiko_. 

Juugo got _another_ cat. 

Sasuke remembers, in great detail, the sensation of waking up covered in cats and birds and dogs and whatever else followed Juugo home and thinks maybe it wasn’t so bad that he left Oto behind. 

“Juugo got another rat.”

“You can’t use ‘rat’ to describe every animal you see.”

“I don’t.” He replies. “I recognized the polar bears, didn’t I? Besides, why would I need to differentiate? They’re all just food.”

“Don’t kill any of Juugo’s pets. He’d kill you.”

“They’re safe.” If hawks could roll their eyes, Riku would be. “He’d mutate if I did anything.”

Sasuke hums, and moves on to Karin’s letter. The first part constitutes a… very long and frankly concerning list of things she’ll do if anything happens, unabashedly drops the threat of leaking incredibly sensitive information again, and immediately follows it up by asking after his wellbeing. He snorts. 

She does get around to the prisoners eventually. They’ve far from checked all of Orochimaru’s various labs - Karin says they’re scattered across the countryside. She herself was responsible for sealing many of them away - they had a system for ranking which tunnels would be sealed indefinitely (and those tunnels would probably stay that way - who knows what biohazards Orochimaru could have been cooking up down there. If anyone who could create a functioning bioweapon, it was him) - but reported that she hadn't found any evidence of Yukigakure prisoners.

That, of course, didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t guarantee that Orochimaru hadn't just destroyed the evidence that they had been there - he had an organization system with a detailed list of what he did and didn’t have, but only he and Karin seemed to understand a word of what it said. Not to mention, the evidence might just end up being dismissed anyways because of her association with him. 

It… wasn’t an ideal situation. And even if they could prove there was no existing evidence of trafficking, it might not even be enough to end the threat of war.

“Your teacher’s coming.” Riku says, looking over towards the doors.

“Don’t harass Pakkun-”

Riku is already gone. 

Kakashi ambles over and drops down into the seat next to him.

“Your birds are terrors.” He says offhandedly. “It’s no wonder you get along so well with them.”

Sasuke glares. His earlier threat still stands.

Kakashi glances down at the stack of letters in his lap - maps and pictures and thick cardstock. Team Hebi is all but scattered to the wind. In one of the pictures, Suigetsu is hoisting the blade he worked so hard to get over his shoulder while Karin shouts something at him, Juugo trying desperately to corral them both into taking a nice picture, for once. 

“Is that Hebi?”

He hums, not willing to confirm. That feels… personal, and he tried to cleave all those ties out of his life multiple times and all that got him was uncomfortable loose ends. 

“What were you talking about with the princess?”

Kakashi looks at him strangely. “Just some skirmishes near the border. Nothing too important.”

That’s a blatant lie and he isn’t even going to pretend otherwise. If it wasn’t important, he wouldn’t have spoken to Ayame alone. Still, like with Hebi, he lets their secrets lie. 

“Anyways, don’t you have that festival to prepare for?”

He sneers, and Kakashi has the gall to laugh. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” He ruffles his hair, and then disappears.

Bastard. 

He manages to decipher a little more of the Uchiha texts by the time Naruto and Sakura find him, hunched over the little box squinting down at a scribble that he thinks might translate to a. In his concentration, he almost doesn’t notice them approaching. 

He doesn’t bother to acknowledge either of them standing in the doorway, but Sakura is decked out in scrubs (their scrubs are dark blue, in comparison to the pale green of Konoha. He would know, he spent a considerable amount of time there after returning while the doctors puzzled over his physiology and tried to pinpoint just what, exactly, Orochimaru modified. All he knows is that it’s impossible for him to be allergic to anything now) and Naruto has a section of his hair braided. 

He plans to rewrite these upon his first convenience, because despite popular belief, even he isn’t cruel enough to inflict this upon anyone else who has the misfortune to stumble upon it. 

“Learn anything?” Naruto asks, flinging himself down beside him. 

“Not really.” He glances back at the clip he doesn’t really want to acknowledge, and the two of them don’t push the subject. 

“You’ll figure it out.” Naruto assures, one leg splayed over his lap. He kicks him off twice before he resigns himself to his fate. 

Sakura leans a hand on his shoulder, her hair brushing against her jaw. 

“Yeah.” She grins. “You have plenty of time. Besides,” She grabs his hand and yanks him up with that impressive strength she learned from Tsunade, displacing Naruto with a yelp. “We gotta go ask Kakashi about that guy.”

“That’s more important than the marriage-?” His sardonic response is abruptly cut off as Sakura starts dragging him out the door, Naruto scrambling to follow them, so he just lets himself go along with it. It wasn’t like he was making any progress with the Uchiha ciphers anyways.

As it turns out, Kakashi is _not_ sleeping with the strange man they saw. Kakashi isn’t sleeping with anyone. Sasuke isn’t even sure Kakashi is sleeping. 

In fact, he seems particularly put-off by the ‘flirting’ accusation, quick to bring a dramatic hand to his masked mouth and proclaim that he’s _“purely monogamous”_ , which opens up a whole new and equally horrifying line of questioning, because does that mean Kakashi is dating someone? And this is just the mask situation, all over again, and there’s a pain in his chest, brief and deep, between his ribs, like the waves of intercostal muscle beneath his ribs has clamped tight around his lungs.

“I would’ve noticed something!” Sakura whispers disbelievingly, the three of them piled back around the awful box of memories he doesn’t have. 

“Nobody’s even seen his face.” Sasuke grumbles. “Why would he let anyone know who he was dating?”

Sakura makes a strangled noise and falls back against the rug.

“ _We have to find out_. Like. _Immediately_.” 

“New mission!” Naruto sits up, eyes bright. “Find out who Kakashi’s dating!”

Mission: Find out who Kakashi is potentially dating is extremely unsuccessful. It’s Naruto’s fault. Sometimes, Sasuke is genuinely baffled by his lack of tact, poise, and general ability to keep himself hidden. They try pawing through his mail, but they get kicked out within the first five minutes, and they can’t spy on his conversations, because Sasuke is now very noticeable within the crowd, both because of his clothing and because of the fact that every noble in the room knows his face, and the fact that Kakashi can very obviously sense them and is purposely censoring his speech now. In the end, they’re forced to concede defeat, and slink back to the same room they’ve been holed up in for awhile now.

“So,” Naruto grins, balancing his head on his palm. “What’s up with the festival?”

He shrugs, pouring over the next chunk of text. He thinks it says something about ‘ceremonial dress’, but he can’t be sure. “I just have to be there.”

“Hey, Sakura, can we go?” Naruto calls out. Sakura is reviewing her notes - given to her by the head surgeon. He has no idea how she strong armed her into giving her it, and has no intention of finding out.

She hums. “If we do it on our off-hours.”

“We have off hours?”

“We’re on our off hours right now, Naruto. We rotate. Did you just think we were slacking off?”

The look on his face tells the both of them that that was _exactly_ what he thought he was doing.

“Hey,” Naruto tugs at the edge of his shirt. This is looser than the other ones, which he’s grateful for, even if it still feels stiff. This is hand sewn, unlike the military-grade garb back in Konoha. It feels strangely delicate, like if he twisted too far in either direction it would come apart at the seams. Royal blue with gold patterns, and what he thinks is a depiction of the sun goddess perched on his right shoulder. “Isn’t there some like, cultural lesson you should be doing?”

“I have it all memorized.”

Naruto squinted. “ _How_?”

“Sharingan.”

Naruto throws himself back with a groan. “That’s _so_ not fair.”

Sasuke shrugs. 

Naruto flips back onto his stomach, kicking his legs. “When are you going? Do you have to be there for both?”

“Just the one tomorow.”

“But not the one at night? Or the next day?”

“No.”

He stumbles upon the word ‘ _courting_ ’ in his reading, and feels distinctly like he shouldn’t be reading this. Of course, that feeling has never stopped him before, so he continues reading. Naruto peers over his shoulder and squints, but rolls off before Sasuke can smack him, anticipating it. 

“Find something?”

“Hn.”

“That means yes.” Sakura offers unhelpfully. He smooths the scroll over before rolling it back up and depositing it carefully in the box. He looks back at his mother’s hairpiece, buried at the bottom, pearly white, sculpted into the shape of a flower. 

“I have to go.” He says, picks up his box, and leaves.

Sasuke wakes up early. He’s always woken up early, and he’s always been a light sleeper. It’s an old habit, forged even before he joined the academy, partly in trying to imitate Itachi and partly because he just did so naturally. The buzzing activity in the palace wakes him before he awakens naturally. He’s sitting on pins and needles, dark eyes roving over the amorphous shadows in the room, before he realizes it’s only the guards and whoever else is preparing. 

Right. The festival. 

He follows through with his normal morning routine, interrupted prematurely by the same woman who tailored his clothes, same curly hair and hooked nose. She startles at having caught him awake and sitting cross legged on the floor meditating, but quickly recovers. 

Within the next hour, he’s showered and changed into ceremonial robes appropriate for the occasion, part of his hair has been braided and a makeup artist is brushing foundation onto his face. It’s more than a little uncomfortable considering he flinches back every time one of them gets too close - it’s a perfectly understandable, reflexive reaction, but he’s going to get his eye poked out.

Another half hour after, he’s being ushered out the door, and Ayame is soon by his side, dressed in clothes similar to his, though hers are lighter. She sports a dress of ice blue dappled with clouds of white, where his are black and a darker, royal blue. Part of her hair is twisted behind her, connected by two braids, while the rest of it rolls down her back. It’s nearly long enough to reach her hips, all done up in gold and silver clips. The same headdress that she wore the first night of their stay sits upon the crown of her head. When she moves, it seems more like she glides, above the rest of them, easily as cold as her hometown. 

“Let’s be on our way.” She smiles, her lips painted pale pink. 

They pass through the great hall on their way out, and Sasuke feels the gazes of hundreds trained on his back. Noticed is the _last_ thing a Shinobi is supposed to be, and yet here he is, being paraded through the crowd. For a split second, his gaze meets Naruto’s from across the room. They stare a moment, before he can’t turn his head that way anymore, and he’s forced to look away. He can still feel his gaze trained on the back of his neck as he walks, dark pools of fabric swishing around his ankles. 

The entourage of guards surrounds them, guiding their path, as they’re escorted out of the building. 

Outside, the streets are already alive with sound and activity. A loud cheer starts when they exit the regal palace gates, and Sasuke grimaces slightly when he realizes this is probably the first time he’s ever been seen by the citizens themselves. Anonymity is much easier and more pleasant than this.

The snow catches the glare of the sun and everything seems to glow, for an otherworldly moment. 

There’s singing and music in the background, the same long, wobbling sound, same brassy timber as the instrument he’d heard his first night here. He rakes his eyes over the crowd but can’t pick it out. The guards keep a careful perimeter around them as they walk. Beside them, on either side, they’ve been joined by two blue dragons, a mane of feathery plumage extending from behind their horns that sways in the wind as they walk and swerve around each other and the crowd yells. Rice and confetti are thrown into the streets. Some of it gets in his hair. Ayame glances at it with a wry smile and he makes certain not to react outwardly. Appearances are important when they might mean the difference between peace and war.

The streets are lined with food vendors and then he spots the instrument - small and sleek, a glossy sheen of paint catching the sun’s light, more strings than he can count, all gold and silver. 

There are so many people it’s almost dizzying. Later, there will be a parade, which they’ll observe from an appropriate distance. They’d been offered the chance to stand atop one of the floats, but Ayame had mercifully declined. 

The rest of the day is a blur of festivities - delighted shrieks of passing children (more than a few who asked about his strange colored hair and eyes), ice sculptures and food of the likes he’s never seen before, noise and parade floats rolling down the wide streets, flags and streamers spun over their heads between the great, towering buildings. 

Ayame narrates the myth of creation while a troupe of actors performs it, a few operating the same dragons that had walked beside them in the streets, an empress fitted in clothing similar to theirs making a deal of protection with the goddess of the moon, her dragon adorning the crest of the highest mountain in the region, opaque eyes constantly watching the land of mortals.

Eventually, they end up on the same balcony in the palace, overlooking the festivities as they die down before the next wave of people prepare for the night shift. The sky darkens more quickly here, and everything gets quiet in the nighttime, but still, there’s the omnipresent reassurance of civilization below them, in the music and singing and conversation of the festival. 

Beside him, Ayame sighs, straightening her impeccable clothing. 

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She smiles. “You did well. You didn’t scowl once!”

He glares, and she laughs. 

“It wasn’t like I did much of anything.”

She hums. “Keeping appearance, for one. It’s more difficult than it looks, isn’t it?”

He turns back, leaning against the cold railing, the freezing metal biting into his palms. The city is strung with faint light, fires that dance different colors flicker in the distance. 

“This is an old tradition of ours. I’ve come every year, but it’s been awhile since I’ve been accompanied.” She sighs, a fond, wishful one, her breath coalescing in the breeze. “Anyways, you don’t need to attend any of the others.”

“Do you usually?”

“I only attended one last year, after my father’s death.” She confesses. “Some on the Council actually wanted it to be cancelled, can you imagine?”

He assumes he’s not registering the full implications of such a big cultural event being cancelled, so he says silent and waits for her to continue. 

“But to answer your question, yes, I usually do, but I think in light of the attempts on our lives I should probably expose myself less to the public, so I won’t be attending the next two festivals. It was rather dangerous to go down there today, but we had the guards and I’ve seen that you can take care of yourself.”

She doesn’t mention that she also killed one of the assailants, and he isn’t sure what to make of that. 

“Well.” She pushes herself off the balcony with feline-like grace. “I think I’m going to retire to bed now. Goodnight, Sasuke.”

“‘Night.” He mumbles, and leans back over the impossibly cold railing. At least, now he has free reign to rub his eye and not smear makeup all over his face. Ayame had caught him multiple times before he had thought about it. With a short huff of breath, he, too, pushes himself up and wanders back to his quarters. 

He’s changed into a more comfortable pair of clothes, but hasn’t had time to wash the makeup off when he hears a knock at the door. A little bit of deliberation tells him it’s Naruto and not one of the guards, so he opens it up. 

“Bastard.” Naruto smiles brightly, all teeth, and shoulders his way inside. He arches an eyebrow and shoves a washcloth under the water, ready to attempt to wipe the makeup off of him. He’s aware that this might take awhile. He looks up from the sink, into the bedroom itself, where Naruto’s scouting the place out.

“No fair, your place is way nicer than ours!”

He scoffs. “Of course it is, idiot.”

Naruto then bursts into the bathroom, and drags him away from the faucet - which is still running - and before he has the opportunity to ask him _what the fuck_ , he’s explaining.

“We,” He says. “Should go and see the night festival.”

Sasuke blinks. “What?”

“C’mon! Right now! You don’t have to wake up early or anything tomorrow!”

“Don’t you have guard duty?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re such a _killjoy_.” He groans. “Stop thinking so hard for like five seconds. It’ll be fine!”

This is a terrible idea. This is a terrible idea for so, _so_ many reasons.

“What if I’m recognized?”

“You were wearing that veil thing, weren’t you? Besides, we can use henge, and it’ll be dark. We’ll be fine!”

“What about assassination attempts?”

Naruto looks him dead in the eye. “Are you really worried about those?”

Well, no. Not really. Assassination attempts are a reasonable stressor, and much more tangible than the vague, existential stress of sitting through political negotiations while debating whether or not every sentence you’re forced to say is going to start a war, and whether or not it’s worth it. Also, he’s pretty sure he can handle any attempts on his life, if the last few had been any indicator (if he’s careful of what he eats), and he’s really not any more protected in the palace than he is out of it.

Naruto must see his resolve breaking because he grabs hold of his wrist and whispers excitedly, “Come on!” And Sasuke barely has time to think before they’re both jumping out the window. 

The festival is a little different at night than it is in the morning. The music is a little different, and there’s a little more space in the streets. The kids weave around him, laughing, some holding firecrackers that hiss and pop with fizzling light as they sprint through the streets. There are goblets of fire lined up in the streets that burn several different colors - pink, blue green. He stares at them, transfixed.

“Woah.” Naruto whispers, leaning over his shoulder. “How do they do that?”

He has no idea. 

Naruto places a hand on his shoulder and steers him in the direction of one of the street vendors, a bright smile lighting up his face. There’s no doubt that he’s enjoying this, even if it’s not really Sasuke’s thing. But he’s never really liked big crowds. 

“So.” Naruto wanders back from the curb with a steaming kabob. “What did you find out about the Uchiha weddings?”

“What?”

“Oh, come on.” Naruto rolls his eyes. “I saw you do that ‘thinking really hard’ face that you do when you figure something out. Your eyes go all wide and you kinda freeze up. That’s what you did when you were looking at that paper.”

Sasuke bites back a sharp were you watching that closely? Because, technically, it _is_ their job to be perceptive (even if he doesn’t like it when it’s turned on him), and he’s not looking to start a fight in the middle of the street, which would certainly draw attention to them. They’re sticking close to the buildings, away from the center of the streets where the fires are, or going near the crowds gathered around a singer or musician. Someone is making little ice sculptures in the street.

“Nothing important.” He says instead, settling for something neutral. But Naruto gives him the look, and Sasuke resigns himself to the unfortunate reality that he’s probably not going to stop pushing until he answers.

“It was just one of the courting traditions. They would give a potential spouse a gift they created - usually a trinket out of glass or wood - that represented something about them.” He shrugs a shoulder. It seems a little frivolous, but it’s also a clan tradition, and he doesn’t think he’s supposed to be badmouthing those. He remembers his family’s strict adherence to clan rules - even when they were extreme or, frankly, ridiculous. 

Naruto perks up. “Really?”

He shrugs. “That’s what it said.” He doesn’t really have any experience with any of these customs, given the situation, and the fact that he was never set up to be clan head. He was the second son, so he had much less use for clan politics and traditions. 

His eyes turn his way.

“Are you doing that with Ayame?”

“No.” He says bluntly. It wasn’t a widespread tradition, and you didn’t usually do it for arranged marriages. 

“Oh.” He’s quiet for a second. “So what were you showing Ayame?”

“Just some traditional clothing.”

They turn a corner onto the next street, hugging the block. Then, the night sky bursts into explosive color as the first round of fireworks go off.

“Woah!” He cries, and grabs Sasuke’s arm. He pulls them closer to the crowd gathered at the edge of the street, head tipped back, silhouette bathed in multicolored light. Sasuke hasn’t seen fireworks since he was a kid - maybe six or so, on Itachi’s shoulders, watching the fireworks over the lake. 

He smiles at Sasuke and tugs him closer when he continues to keep his distance. He doesn’t want to be noticed - he can maintain henge for fairly long, but he can’t change all that much about his appearance. General height and build need to be the same. The henge had softened his features and lightened his hair and eyes as to help him blend in with the crowd a little better. 

The sky explodes into light again, and he’s transfixed - before he notices Naruto’s eyes on him. He glances back, a brow raised questioningly, his fingers still a loose weight around his wrist, and he opens his mouth, as if to say something-

And then people start screaming. They have just seconds to react before the first building tips over. Sasuke hauls the both of them away as it goes down in a tumble of brick and mortar, bent steel bars screeching as they snap. The music cuts off sharply and the pleasant conversation turns to screaming. 

He draws his sword, grateful that he brought it with him, but hesitates to use Chidori - that might identify him. Instead, he stays on alert as citizens rush past in a frenzied blur. 

Then, something rises out of the wreckage, enormous and terrible -

A snake, all overlapping purple scales. One of Orochimaru’s beasts.

Five slitted pairs of eyes, sitting on five different heads, all sewn together into one body, stare back at him. 

Fucking _Kofaku_. 

Naruto screams. “What the fuck is that?!”

Of course, Orochimaru’s fucked up crimes against nature would follow him all the way out here. How did it even get out here? 

“Orochimaru.” He snarls, and Naruto gets the gist. 

This was a mistake. He never should have agreed to come out here. 

Sword clutched tightly, he charges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love team Hebi. Like, I thought their dynamic was so funny. Like, Karin and Suigetsu are batshit crazy, Juugo's like the mom friend that can just mutate at like any second and Sasuke is dissociating for the first half of the series. Peak dumbass energy. Anyways, I just think they're neat.
> 
> This chapter is mostly setup for the next chapter, so it was a little bit slower, but I had fun writing the festival and all of Sasuke's hawks.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	5. Murderous Snakes and the Casual Act of Committing Treason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juugo is everyone's mom and Kakashi helps Sasuke commit treason.

This, Sasuke has to admit, has to be the most creative assassination attempt he’s seen yet. It’s not every day that one of Orochimaru’s crimes against nature are thrown into your lap - or, more specifically, summoned inside the capitol. 

“You _know_ this thing?”

“Can’t say I’ve fought it.” He bites out. Naruto is right on his heels as he lunges towards it. He aims for the smallest head on the far right with an impressive speed, hurtling forward and jamming his sword between the thick plates of its scales. He channels Chidori down the blade, but he doesn’t get the chance to go very deep - or rather, his sword doesn’t pierce deeply enough - before it tosses its head wildly and he goes flying back. He dodges neatly to the side as another snakehead nearly takes his head off. An impressively sized fireball sends it writhing back with a horrifying screech, but it doesn’t look harmed. 

“This is even worse than the snake from the forest of death!” Naruto moans, and Sasuke would just like to add that he has _no_ idea what else Orochimaru has hiding in those labs, and he can safely say that no one possessing a healthy sense of self preservation or concern for their mental health should be going anywhere _near_ them. “Do you have a plan that isn’t ‘die horribly’?”

His response is cut off by a wave of corrosive acid-vomit that melts the cement beside him. 

“What the _fuck_.” Naruto whispers.

“You have no idea.” He mumbles, and charges before he can think better of it.

As he jumps between the buildings, he studies its movements. All of the heads are writhing in apparent agony every which way, smashing into each other and other buildings in their frenzy and leaving _dents in the concrete_. Best not to get hit, then. 

The smallest head has eyes, if he’s feeling generous, but the third and fourth don’t. They do, however, have orifices that he would hesitantly call a nose. It doesn’t really matter what it is, because it’s an opening.

“Naruto!” He yells. “Use Rasengan! Aim for the nose!”

Meanwhile, he jabs the length of his sword into the slits that may or may not be eyes, and pushes as far as it will go, before dispensing a lethal dose of electricity that results in the both of them careening into the ground where it lies, twitching. He’s forced to let go of his sword lest he be smashed into the pavement, but he’ll have time to wrench it out of the brain matter later. Instead, he whirls around just in time to see Naruto force his Rasengan into the orifice and get splattered in foul smelling toxic-green blood. _Biohazard_ , the little voice in his head that reminds him of Karin whispers. 

He takes the moment of distraction (ignoring Naruto gagging and the agonized howling of the monstrosity) to yank the sword out of its head, which takes a good couple of times, and narrowly avoids getting all of the bones in his body crushed by the flailing snake head directly next to it. The front part of it smashes into the ground, cracking the pavement, while slimy green blood drips down its nose and curved fangs. He repeats the process with this one - the eyes are marginally bigger, which makes the task _slightly_ less revolting, while yelling at Naruto to do the same. 

The last snakehead thrashes and hisses at nothing in particular. Naruto laments mournfully about his second skin of disgusting snake juice, splattered head to toe in iridescent green. Sasuke himself isn’t completely clean, but he’s splattered pretty liberally. Looks like he ruined another pair of expensive clothes. 

Wrinkling his nose, he appraises the state of his dripping sword. 

Beside him, Naruto whimpers.

“Let’s get out of here.” He says, as a Yukigakure jounin goes soaring over his head to deal with the last remaining head. This one breathes fire. 

“What?” He asks sharply. “But that thing’s still alive! We should be helping!”

Sasuke grabs his wrist and starts yanking him away, making certain that his henge is still on.

“What do you think,” He hisses, “Will happen if someone spots me, _a person with association to Orochimaru_ , in the immediate vicinity of one of Orochimaru’s experiments that was summoned _inside the city_? What do you think that would do to the peace treaty?”

Naruto pales, though it’s a little hard to spot beneath all the green. 

“Oh, shit.”

“ _Yeah_.” Sasuke snaps. He doesn’t know if he can get out of Yukigakure if he really needed to. He doesn’t plan on dying before he can get to Itachi, but he doesn’t know if escape right now is feasible. If they suspect that he planted Kofaku here, then they might _actually_ kill him this time. “So let’s hurry up before anyone realizes we’re missing.”

They’re back at palace grounds within five minutes, chakra condensed in tight coils so that they wouldn’t be sensed, and they sneak back up the tower the same way they’d come. They’re lucky it’s still dark.

Sasuke slides the window open as quietly as he can, glancing around the darkened room to ensure that there’s no one waiting, before hopping into the floor, Naruto at his heels. He wrinkles his nose at the green-covered clothing that probably constitutes a new level of biohazards. He and Karin had an organizational system, and he would probably score this at a level higher than any of their currently existing ones. 

Naruto seems to think the same thing, judging from the positively disgusted expression on his face. 

“Can I use your shower?” He pleads. “It’s the only one that’s private!”

Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, whatever.” He squints at the clothes again. He’s going to need to burn those. He glances down at his own clothes. He’ll need to burn those, too, just to destroy any possible incriminating evidence. Fire remains the best method of disposal. 

And burn them he does, once they’re lying in a heap in the trash bin, until they’re nothing but a pile of ash and the entire room smells like smoke. He lends Naruto one of the bathrobes (keeping careful watch on the ash just to make sure that it’s not going to get up - he’s seen weirder, and honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him. Few things do, at this point).

“Did you tell anyone we were going?”

“Uh… Sakura knows. Kakashi might too. But no one else.”

He sighs. “As long as no one saw us, we should be alright.”

Naruto stares at him.

“What?”

“Your shirt.”

“What about-” 

Naruto steps forward and grabs his arm, twisting it so that he can see the spots of iridescent green spattered at the hem. Fuck. He thought he didn’t get any on his shirt. 

Before he has the chance to wrench his arm out of Naruto’s hold, there’s a knock on the door, and then it swings open, one of the guards charging boldly inside, probably to make sure that he was in fact still there and not being murdered by the snake monstrosity terrorizing the city and/or involved in the appearance of said snake monstrosity. She pauses, wide eyed, when she sees the both of them, and stutters.

Naruto makes a high pitched, horrified sound that isn’t subtle at all and steps between them so she can’t see the snake blood on his arm. 

“ _I’m so sorry_ -” She says, and Naruto is making frantic noises, and Sasuke just kind of wants to sink into the floor, and she finally closes the door. 

“ _You_.” He says, teeth clenched. “Are an _idiot_.”

Naruto only has a sheepish grin to offer.

The next day is mostly concerned with Kofaku. Kakashi approaches him early in the day.

“Interesting that one of Orochimaru’s experiments would appear here right now.” He hums, leaning against one of the ornate pillars. Sasuke glares daggers at him. _What are you trying to imply, bastard_?

He apparently doesn’t have to vocalize that particular sentiment to convey the message, because the edge of his eye crinkles in a smile and he ruffles Sasuke’s hair. He attempts to burn Kakashi’s book, but is, sadly, unsuccessful. 

“There’s no proof that we were there.” He scowls. 

“The good news is that nobody thinks you were.” Kakashi is _smirking_. Sasuke is going to burn every single copy of Icha Icha paradise he owns. “They’re all under a _different_ impression.” 

Sasuke stares at him for another full thirty seconds before he tries to incinerate him on the spot.

(When Kiba walks in later with a black eye after one poorly thought out comment, no one questions it). 

Everyone at the table is discussing the attack and, decidedly his _least_ favorite topic, Orochimaru. Once, Ayame’s eyes glance to him, but she doesn’t dare ask him, not when that would require he divulge the situation to everyone and make himself a suspect. 

“We found a summoning scroll inside the building it came from.” One of the men offers. 

“It’s safe to say this attack was premeditated.” Ayame says, posture perfectly straight and eyes clear, expression placid and professionally blank. “It’s also safe to assume Sasuke and I were the target of the attack.”

“The real question is how the scroll was found and planted here.” 

“Yes.” Ayame nods. “For that reason, we’ve invited the ambassadors from Otogakure here.”

“You’ve done _what_?” Ito snaps. Sasuke stills at the revelation, momentarily too stunned to mentally criticize his expression. “You’ve invited _Otogakure_ here?”

If Sasuke cared at all about his opinion, he’d almost be offended by the amount of vitriol in his voice. 

“Of course I have.” Ayame’s tone is icy. “This is in their jurisdiction and they know the most about the situation - they’ll be able to lend us their expertise.”

“Otogakure has given us _nothing_ but trouble. Invitations like this are the reason incidents like last night’s happen in the first place. Otogakure has stolen our people-”

“ _Allegedly_.” 

This is the first time he’s heard Ayame so close to snapping. Her eyes are blazing, but she still seems perfectly in control. He’s not entirely sure why she feels the need to defend Oto. They were responsible for coordinating trafficking as well as illegal betting pools all over the country, not to mention the experimentation element. Otogakure had manipulated Suna and Gaara into destroying the leaf, they were technically responsible for whatever conflict was going on in the Land of Rice and therefore whatever problems were going on here. He can’t think of a reason, so he assumes it must be to keep face and show their guests - who have already been invited, apparently - proper hospitality.

Beneath the table, he nudges her leg with his. 

She doesn’t look at him, but she loses some of the tension in her shoulders. He goes back to staring at the indistinct point over the shoulder of the extravagantly dressed Earth representative.

“Secondly, _Orochimaru_ was the one coordinating these events, and in the wake of his death, Otogakure has been nothing but accommodating in its negotiations and its attempts to remedy the damage that Orochimaru caused.”

“You didn’t consult the Council in this decision.” Ito growls. “You’ve overstepped your boundaries.”

“This is considered a time of war, Councilman.” Her tone has reached sub zero again. “I assume I don’t need to remind you of my ability to pull executive rank?”

The silence that follows is satisfying.

“Good. The representatives will be arriving shortly. I expect all of them to be treated civilly.” She waves her hand with a flourish of silk and stands. “This meeting is adjourned.”

Hebi arrives not long after. Sasuke hears him before he sees them, but even then it isn’t enough warning to avoid Suigetsu, who in their short seven months apart still hasn’t grasped the concept of personal space, who loops an arm around his shoulders and turns himself to water when he tries to stab him. Karin isn’t far behind, her bright red hair a beacon, and she takes full advantage of the fact that Suigetsu is practically draped across his back, complaining loudly about how boring politics are and how he misses all the ‘stabbing and killing and fun things we used to do, y’know?’ to attach herself to his arm. 

Ayame watches the procession with thinly veiled bewilderment, but at this point, she’s used to the strangeness he seems to attract.

Juugo appears not much later, not looking all that much different from how he had before, free of his usual entourage of animals (though he _does_ spot a couple of birds hovering uncertainly above). He smiles and walks up to the three of them, and Suigetsu proceeds to pull him down to join in on the group hug that’s apparently happening. Sasuke tries to wiggle free, but Suigetsu and Karin just hold on tighter. Juugo laughs softly, placing two hands on their shoulders. 

“Alright.” He says, and pries them off. 

“I take it you know them?” The edge of Ayame’s mouth quirks up into a smile. 

“You could say that.” He says, bone dry. 

“Know him?” Suigetsu repeats. “We liberated Oto together!”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and Suigetsu shakes him. 

“We killed a dictator!”

“ _I_ killed a dictator. You were in a fish tank.”

“Dictatorship doesn’t end there,” Suigetsu grins with a mouthful of needle sharp teeth. “Juugo told me that.”

He glances back at Juugo expectantly.

“We’ve been cleaning up since Sasuke killed Orochimaru.”

“So I’ve heard.” Ayame smiles, her hands joined before her. “It’s actually what I called you here to discuss.”

“Well,” Suigetsu grins. “What’re we waiting for?”

When they reach the consulting table, Suigetsu whistles lowly. 

“Fancy.”

Karin elbows him hard in the side. “ _You’re making us look bad_.” She hisses. “ _This is why no one likes us_!”

“Oh yeah? I think you do that all on your own with your ugly mug-”

Before Karin can properly murder him, Juugo steps between them with his stern and somewhat disappointed, “Guys,” and they both back off. “Let’s be polite to our hosts.” 

They don’t need to give Ito more reasons to hate them.

“You’re familiar with them?” Ito’s voice is almost carefully flat as his eyes flick between him and Suigetsu, a familiar hand on his shoulder. He resists the urge to curl his lip in disgust. Ito reminds him of someone, but he can’t put his finger on who.

“What of it?” 

His face twists, the scar tissue at the side of his jaw pulling. “It’s _unbecoming_ of someone of your status to be affiliated with _them_.”

“Look, pal,” Suigetsu has that grin on his face - the one he had before he’d start a fight - and he notices both Juugo and Ayame eyeing him. “I don’t know what you’re _insinuating_ here, but we haven’t done anything to you, and I’ll associate with whoever I _want_ to.” 

“That monstrosity came from _your_ cursed village.” Ito snaps, and he can feel Karin glaring now. She doesn’t take insults to her work lightly - she was very meticulous about her management of both the prison and the tunnels. “You expect me to believe that it’s something as simple as _coincidence_ that that thing is summoned here not long after he gets here?”

Now Ito’s glare is directed at _him_. Sasuke scowls back, matching him in intensity. If the situation were different, he would’ve activated the Sharingan, just to see him flinch.

Beside him, Suigetsu snorts. 

“Ito!” Ayame snaps. “I will not have you disrespecting our guests. They are here on peaceful terms under _my_ hospitality. You will keep your accusations to _yourself_.”

A startled silence falls over the table.

After a moment, Ayame clears her throat delicately.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, there was an incident last night involving one of Orochimaru’s experiments.”

“It came from Otogakure.” Another woman brings up. While she’s not so openly disgusted by the sound of its name, she clearly has no love for it. 

“It did.” Ayame agrees. “Do you three know anything about it?” 

They turn to Karin. If anyone knows anything about it, it would be her.

“I’d have to reference my notes,” She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, “But I’m willing to bet based on the description that it was an experiment codenamed Kofaku.”

Sasuke grimaces.

“As far as I’m aware, it never left the tunnels before this point.”

“But you can confirm that it was one of his experiments?”

“Yes. I’ll have to see what tunnel it was part of, though, because many of them were sealed off, but more were still pending.”

“We sealed as many as we could,” Juugo explains, “But they’re extensive. We couldn’t afford to send anyone outside the borders until we fixed our infrastructure. We covered up the more dangerous ones, but I’m not sure if Kofaku was kept in a cell.” 

Sasuke can safely say that she was _not_. She was something like Orochimaru’s pet. He does not volunteer any of this information.

“I’ll have to check.” Karin shrugs. “I had a system of keeping track of them, and now we have all of Orochimaru’s notes.”

He’s sure those would be more helpful if they weren’t written entirely in a code that only Karin and Orochimaru could read.

“What was your position?” One of them questions.

“I was warden. I handled all records of the prisons and the tunnels. If it exists, there are records of it.” 

“If you could go and get those records, that would be appreciated.” Ayame smiles. Karin nods and stands up, going to retrieve her box of detailed encoded files.

“You’re letting her in the palace unguarded?” Ito sputters. “With no supervision-?!”

“They’re _guests_ , Ito.” Her voice is slightly strained. “Not hostages. There is no grief between us. She can do as she pleases.”

The door swings shut behind her, and the conversation is over.

“No grief between us?” Ito snaps. “Have you no understanding of this war, Princess? Otogakure has connections with the _Akatsuki_ -”

“What?” Juugo startles. Sasuke stills. 

He might have… conveniently forgotten to mention to Konoha that Orochimaru might have had some connections to the Akatsuki. He hadn't learned that on purpose, but Orochimaru had mentioned that he and Itachi had met before and he might have done some digging. If they hadn't gotten to decoding that section of his notes, they wouldn’t have found it. 

“Have you no understanding of your own country?” Ito spits. “You’ve done nothing about the trafficking situation _or_ the fact that it’s tied back to Akatsuki influence in Amegakure.”

“The trafficking has already been made illegal-” Juugo starts.

“And yet you haven’t taken the measures to remedy the situation at all-”

“There were other things we needed to address _first_. Like the power vacuum.” Juugo frowns.

Sasuke might actually be the only one here with intimate knowledge of Oto’s underground. Juugo was still locked up in a cage, Suigetsu in his tank, and Karin on her isolated island. SHe might know, but she isn’t here at the moment. This is not ideal. 

“How much do you actually know about Otogakure’s underground?” He asks, and ignores Ayame’s pointed glare. “You seem quite knowledgeable about the trafficking. I don’t suppose that knowledge extends to any other of its aspects?”

“What are you talking about, boy?”

“The fighting rings.” Juugo realizes. “That’s where most of them ended up.”

“Orochimaru was after kekkei genkai that could help him achieve immortality, among other things. Trafficking isn’t the ideal way of getting those, because of how closely guarded they are. Orochimaru had special contacts for getting those.”

 _That’s what he used the Akatsuki for_. The betting pools were used whenever Orochimaru needed to consult with them. Orochimaru’s contacts were extensive and varied and provided useful information and coverage to the Akatsuki. In exchange, they provided whatever Kekkei Genkai that Orochimaru was after. They were the ones who profited from the rings. _That_ was where the connection lied.

So how had he known that?

Sasuke probes his expression but finds nothing telling.

“And how do _you_ know about any of this?”

“I was the one who killed Orochimaru.” There are no ripples of surprise, so he’s safe to continue. “Shortly after, I helped to fix Otogakure’s infrastructure. I was responsible for looking into the underground.”

It’s not _entirely_ a lie but it’s stretching the truth pretty far. None of them call him out on it. 

Ito’s eyes narrow. There’s a hypothesis forming slowly at the back of his mind, and he doesn’t like what it implies. 

“We’ve gotten off topic.” Ayame intervenes. Sasuke continues to hold Ito’s gaze. “We need to discuss how someone was able to summon…. Kofaku.” She stumbles a little uncertainly over the name. “Were the tunnels secure?”

“We did as much as we could,” Juugo’s hand rests at the nape of his neck, “but there could have been a period of time where someone could have snuck in. There’s no guarantee that they didn’t do it before Orochimaru was dead, but it’s unlikely. It depends on where the tunnel that Kofaku was kept was.”

“And Karin will have that information soon?”

“She should.”

“In that case, further discussion is nothing but conjecture. Once we have the appropriate records to consult, we may continue.” She stands, and the meeting is adjourned.

“What was _that_?” Suigetsu asks as they stroll down the hallway. Or, Suigetsu strolls. Sasuke moves with purpose and does not indulge in things like that. Juugo, taller than both of them, has the benefit of long legs, and ambles comparatively slowly. 

“What was what.”

“Oh come on. You know,” He gesticulates wildly. “Why you got all bitchy with ugly back there.”

He scrunches his nose at the terminology.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You _did_ have that look on your face.” Juugo remarks.

This is _mutiny_ , and Sasuke doesn’t dignify it with an answer.

“Yeah!” Suigetsu agrees. “Your scheming face!”

“I don’t _scheme_.”

“You plotted Orochimaru’s death. _That_ was scheming.”

“And what about that time-”

Sasuke tunes them out. 

“So,” Suigetsu says. “Where are we going?”

“I told you. To find Karin.”

“More importantly,” Juugo interrupts, prying Suigetsu off him, “Why? Something Ito said?”

“He’s suspicious.” Is what he allows. Suigetsu tries to lunge at him again, but Juugo holds him off. Sasuke looks at him very seriously. “You’re my favorite.” He says. Suigetsu squawks indignantly.

Eventually they reach the room that Karin has holed herself up inside of. He knocks once before opening it up, and there she is, squatting on the floor surrounded by more files than he has any desire to count.

“Careful where you step!” She screeches when they enter, specifically at Suigetsu. 

“Karin,” He says, as he watches her frantically try to sort through her files. He’s not sure what she’s looking for. “Do you have a section of files on the fighting rings?”

She pauses, and then turns back to him, the same understanding in her eyes. “Yeah, I do. Why do you want them?”

“I’m investigating Orochimaru’s involvement with the Akatsuki.”

She frowns, but doesn’t ask him why, thankfully. She digs through her collection before handing a folder to him.

“Careful with that!” She warns. 

“Those are the only things she loves more than you.” Suigetsu mutters. Karin throws a vase at his head. 

“I’m going to go look through these. Don’t follow me.” 

He ignores the three pairs of inquisitive eyes on his back as he goes.

“Sasuke, what are you _doing_?”

Sasuke pauses in his careful defilement of classified records to turn around and see none other than Kakashi watching him with something like concern and exasperated bewilderment from the doorway. His chakra is so familiar that he hadn't noticed him approaching. He’ll need to work on that later. 

Instead of answering that, he opens the next folder.

Kakashi’s sigh feels like it has physical weight. 

“If you’re going to break the law at _least_ close the door.”

Kakashi kneels down next to him.

“And here I thought your rebellious streak was over. What’s so important that you feel the need to commit treason?” 

“Not going to try and stop me?” Sasuke asks absentmindedly as he thumbs through whatever this report has to offer - skirmishes on the border his ass. “And here I thought you were real straight-laced.”

Kakashi snorts. “I once almost assassinated the Hokage.”

 _That_ catches his attention. A quick, baffled look in his direction pulls a laugh out of him, but he doesn’t elaborate. Sasuke waves the shock of _that_ revelation away and compares the dates on two files, Sharingan activated.

“Any particular reason you’re stealing state secrets, or is this just for the fun of it?”

“The Councilmen - Ito. He knows that Otogakure and Akatsuki are connected.”

Kakashi shifts. “That’s not classified knowledge-”

“No. Not Orochimaru. _Otogakure_. He was talking about the trafficking. He meant the fighting rings. That is classified knowledge.”

He has no doubt that Tsunade knows about it, since the Sandaime clearly had to have known. He was the one enabling it, after all. 

“I only know about them because I was part of them. The trafficking doesn’t go to Orochimaru himself. If they had useful Kekkei Genkai, they went to the rings, which Orochimaru helped to fund, and then to Orochimaru, but they were under indirect control of the Akatsuki. En Oyashiro was one of the more famous profiteers.” 

Kakashi is silent next to him. “I’m assuming the Hokage already knows?”

“Of course she does.” He replies, frowning down at the mismatched dates. Something is wrong. “The Sandaime knew.”

Kakashi hums thoughtfully. “And what are you looking at?”

“Your skirmishes at the border lie was bullshit.” He says. “No way that would warrant a private audience with the Princess. Not unless there was something else behind it. Don’t suppose you’ll tell me what it is.”

Kakashi reclines back. “You’re a smart kid. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Sasuke scoffs. These documents prove that Yukigakure had been _profiting_ from the fight rings. So why would they claim Konoha, whose own system of trafficking was so closely tied in with Otogakure’s that they could be considered the same, was one of the reasons the war started? 

Unless they were looking for a scapegoat, they wouldn’t have a reason to declare trade closed like that.

Maybe the clan system would shed more light on the situation. 

“Sasuke,” Kakashi warns, in a voice that seems entirely too knowing. “Be careful.” 

Sasuke watches him for a moment, before scoffing and looking away, “Yeah, whatever.”

He ruffles his hair, and Sasuke resigns himself to his fate. 

“Remember to be careful _what_ you do with what you find.”

“So there _is_ something to find?”

Kakashi only shrugs as he leaves. “Who knows?”

Sasuke could laugh.

In the courtyard, Juugo is joined by his usual gathering of animals. Two stark white birds are perched on his shoulders and an arctic fox dozes on his feet. Sasuke shakes his head.

“That didn’t take long.”

“Fifteen minutes.” Karin offers. She throws a snowball at Suigetsu, who doesn’t bother to dodge. Throwing water at water, after all. “Did you find anything out?”

Sasuke hums. “Not enough. Kakashi seems to think something else is going on.” 

“The Ito bastard seems suspicious.” Suigetsu offers. “Usually I’d just think he was like, Xenophobic or something-” Karin probably had to teach him that word. “But he knew something. The look on his face? That guy knew something.”

“And the tunnels?”

“Kofaku was kept in 27W but she had free reign in there. It isn’t one we sealed but it was pretty high up there on the biohazard scale. Outside Otogakure borders. In the Land of Rice. If the Princess tells them that she won’t be very happy.”

“So it could have been anyone?”

“Someone who knew it was down there. Did Orochimaru ever tell anyone about her?”

“Other than Kabuto, I didn’t see him talk to anyone for anything other than business deals. It doesn’t mean he didn’t.” He shrugs.

“He didn’t let you out of his sight.” Karin reminds. He couldn’t afford to. 

“Only when we went to the rings. He could’ve mentioned her there.”

“Was there anyone that had access to those tunnels?”

“Those were your specialty. I didn’t concern myself with the tunnels.” He didn’t concern himself with them any further then _don’t sneak around in them_. 

Karin blows the hair off her face. “I kinda figured. Still sucks.”

“Someone wants this war to happen.” He says after a long moment. There wouldn’t be assassins after his head, otherwise. He isn’t inclined to believe that they’ll stop after he does get married, either, because tensions aren’t going to cool down for quite a while. 

“Have any leads?” 

“No.” He says. “But I might know where to find some.”

Three hours later, he and Kakashi are sparring with weapons. Sword fighting and taijutsu require all of Sasuke’s concentration. Orochimaru had taught him how to wield a sword when he realized Sasuke’s affinity for weaponry, but he doesn’t hold one like it’s an extension of his body. Everything is a flash of silver, the reflection of the blades catching the glare of the light. His arm burns distantly, but he's too caught up to think about it too much. They’ve amassed a bit of a crowd as they fight, both of their Sharingan activated so that Sasuke can copy Kakashi’s movements, before they both break off, breathing hard.

“You’ve gotten better.” Kakashi acknowledges. “But you fumbled on that last move. You would’ve died.”

Sasuke yanks his sword out of the earth. The crowd around them disperses. 

“So,” He starts pleasantly, as if he’s not going to bring up Sasuke’s casual disregard of the law. “Did you find anything out?”

He narrows his eyes. “Why are you asking?”

Kakashi wraps an arm around his shoulders and yanks him closer, and he’s half tempted to pull away before Kakashi tilts his head and says, so quietly that only he can hear, “Something’s stirring up in Konoha. Orochimaru’s ANBU contact was Danzo. You figure out the rest.” Then, as if he hadn't just imparted any knowledge at all, ruffles his hair and is on his way. 

Sasuke stares after him, wide-eyed for a moment. Why would he say those things like that? Unless they were connected.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks, and then once more, with feeling. 

_What the hell is going on_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Team Hebi is finally here!! I had so much fun writing them lol. Juugo doesn't deserve this. Sasuke is SUSPICIOUS. 
> 
> When I was writing this chapter I was like 'is it ooc for Kakashi to help him look through classified documents' and then I remembered that time Danzo almost convinced him to kill the ninja president so.
> 
> Next time: Everyone wants to kill Sasuke. What else is new.


	6. 101 Ways to Avoid Assassination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sasuke gets thoroughly fed up with the Council and the attempts on his life, in that order.

His day starts with an armed attacker disguised as a guard bursting into his quarters and attempting to behead him. A well placed Chidori through the chest puts a swift end to _that_ , and he’s really not sure what was meant to be accomplished by such an upfront attack and with only one person, but he doesn’t think about it too hard for the moment, as there will be plenty of time for that later, because now there’s unfortunately a corpse on his bedroom floor. 

He has a feeling today is going to be _fun_. 

It seems as though the Council is not done yelling at them, and continues to do so, thus hindering negotiations and postponing the wedding yet again by a handful of days, and Sasuke thinks that a Chidor would solve this issue, too, however murder is, unfortunately, not a viable negotiation tactic. They have guards stationed in the kitchens now to make sure that they aren’t going to be poisoned, but he notes that those efforts are mostly unsuccessful as one of the Councilmen (not Ito, which is also unfortunate), falls backwards, clutching his chest as his body spasms and his veins run black beneath his pale skin. He glances at his plate and compares it to his own, and has no doubt that whatever poisoned him was meant for him or Ayame. 

Two so far. Maybe he should start keeping tally. 

It isn’t even noon when the men catch him, three of them, like he had thought, unaccompanied, to lure them out, and Sasuke is starting to get annoyed. These three pose a little bit more of a threat than the first one, but not by much. Their teamwork isn’t very good, either, considering their uncoordinated movements and the fact that they only tried to attack him together once, and he comes out of it without a scratch on him. 

This is getting ridiculous.

Kakashi is watching him with a thinly veiled smile from across the room, clearly enjoying his suffering. 

The fourth time it happens, they’re arguing about Otogakure again. He’s not sure how the subject came up and he doesn’t care, but one of the Councilmen, with thin, graying hair and a glare that could rival his own contesting their presence here at all, despite Ayame’s numerous explanations as to their importance in the discussions and the avoidance of war, and he calls into question Sasuke’s association with Orochimaru for the third time this hour, when the window shatters and a flurry of paper bombs attached to kunai into the hall. The useless guards do _nothing_ because they’re _useless_ and Sasuke leaps onto the table, deflecting each and every one of them and sending them flying back the attacker’s way. They fall forward through the open window, and Sasuke drives the sword through his chest.

The body hits the ground with a wet _thud_.

Sasuke, silently seething, turns around to stare directly at the grimacing Council. “Anyone else,” He keeps his voice flat and cold as he rips his sword from his rib cage, “Have any objections?”

The Council, for the first time ever, has nothing to say. Sasuke sheaths his sword and sits back down beside Ayame, who looks as if she’s dedicating quite a bit of energy into keeping from smiling, expression flat. Hesitantly, conversation starts again. No one brings up Otogakure for at _least_ another hour. 

Unfortunately, his satisfaction doesn’t last long, because later, once he’s in the library and trying to piece together what Orochimaru’s connections to Konoha were and who Danzo is (and moreover, why Kakashi thought he was dangerous enough to mention to him), the fifth attempt on his life occurs. He’s knee deep in a book on Konoha government (and, written from the perspective of an outside nation, it might actually be less biased than anything he’d find in Konoha) when he hears the foundation of the roof above him crack. Above him, the plaster splinters like spiderwebs. And then it bursts into flames.

Sasuke really, _really_ fucking hates his life.

He grabs the books in his immediate vicinity and hauls them up on his hip, using _shunshin_ to get out of the room as quickly as physically possible, because he can’t fucking _fight flames_ , and more importantly, neither can the books he’s currently getting information from. As he watches the glorious red inferno grow bigger, orange fans of flames lapping hungrily at the old, grande bookcases and their leather-bound contents, and you’d really _think_ that as someone who can breathe fire, he should have some jutsu that counteracts flames, but he can do nothing but scan for his new pyromaniac assailant and watch as waves of jonin bury the fire beneath walls of earth or, if they have to, resort to putting it out with water (it would be preferable to solve the issue without water, seeing as the room contains old, crumbling, paper documents). 

“Wow.” Naruto says, also standing by unhelpfully, as it seems none of them have anything useful to contribute at the moment. “How many attempts is that today?”

Sasuke counts to ten and _doesn’t_ elbow him in the face, and since there are no witnesses, no one can prove otherwise.

That afternoon, he drags Kakashi back into the courtyard and demands he teach him every earth-style jutsu he knows. Kakashi’s interpretation of said demand essentially boils down to him throwing whatever he pleases in his direction (usually fire), and, most of the time, if they want to avoid property damage, the only counter to these projectiles (usually fire), is earth. He learns surprisingly quickly this way, with his Sharingan activated as he flies through the hand seals, and with an audience watching, he learns quickly for the sake of his dignity. 

In his speed, he fumbles with the boar seal. He feels the uncomfortable branching of his chakra, and has to duck out of the way of a plume of fire.

“Wrong.” Kakashi calls lazily, because he isn’t the one defending against fire. “What are you doing wrong?”

“Boar seal.” He grits out, and watches Kakashi do the hand signs again. Immediately he’s forced back on the defensive. This time, when he slams his hands into the ground - where the snow has been melted off by Kakashi’s flames - a great wall of earth shelters him from a blistering swathe of flame, and is thick enough that the fire doesn’t touch him. 

“Alright.” Kakashi says, deeming his work adequate. “Now we move onto step two.” He draws a kunai, and Sasuke draws his sword, and they charge each other, except this time there’s the inclusion of _flames_ and other ranged jutsu that can apparently be warded off by earth. Sasuke wonders why he hasn’t tried to learn this before - with Orochimaru, almost all his time was spent on his swordsmanship and how he could incorporate Chidori into that, as well as many of his lightning-style jutsus. 

They’ve garnered quite the audience by the time they stop. Sasuke is breathing heavily, but he realizes, with no small amount of satisfaction, that Kakashi, Kakashi with a ‘flee on sight’ order in the Bingo book is winded, too. 

“Your performance was adequate.” Kakashi says, as if that’s supposed to be a compliment, and Sasuke exhales flames at him. The audience they’ve collected trickles away back into the palace to attend to whatever duties they were neglecting. 

“So.” Kakashi starts cheerfully. “How’s your day going?”

“You’re all useless.” Sasuke tells him, and means it. He doesn’t need guards, but they should at least be doing their job. Five attempts on his life and they’re only responsible for stopping one of them. Technically, whoever caused the fire is still on the loose, too, but he has more important matters to attend to. 

The part of the palace that was almost burned down is cordoned off now, as the half collapsed roof is a daunting safety concern, but Sasuke has a few more books he needs to check out, and he’s walked into far worse situations. Ignoring the panicked shouts of the guard, he sidesteps them easily, entering the blackened, charred mouth of the doorframe to enter the smoky remains of the room. Half of the wall is collapsed, leaving gaping support beams poking out of the walls, full of bristling teeth of splinters and ash. He carefully tests the integrity of the floor before declaring it safe for walking on, before ducking down to the shelf it was seen on last. Unfortunately, he hadn't the forethought to grab it before he escaped, but he got most of the other books. This one, however, seems to be conspicuously missing. He scours the floor. All of the other books are still in place, undisturbed. He finds nothing but charred wood.

“You.” He addresses the guard, who stiffens and flinches under the weight of chakra he’s dispelling. “Did you see anyone take this book?”

“N-no!” She squeaks, clutching her spear. 

He turns to survey the shelf again, but it yields no further information, so he turns and walks back out of the room.

The book is gone. How…

_Interesting_.

When Sasuke was younger, he used to like puzzles. His father had frowned in distaste at the frivolous use of his time, while Itachi was gavalenting off being a prodigy in ANBU, but he’d always had an analytical eye. Now, he has no such love for them, but he can appreciate the appeal, especially now.

Now, why would someone want to steal that book in particular? _Especially_ in the midst of a fire? The only conclusion he can come up with is that someone didn’t want him to see it - perhaps the same someone who decided they’d try their hand at arson. 

He frowns at his box of books. These ones are untouched. He’s going to have to keep careful watch on these, just in case they get stolen, too. Skimming them doesn’t give him much to go off of - the topics meander around the meat of the issue, and he can’t glean much fact from them, not concerning the topics he needs. The most he learns about Danzo is that the man is a disgraced member of the Council, who had been taken out of an active role on the Council since-

He goes cold at the mention of the date. _The date of the massacre_. He had been removed from power on the day of the massacre. His less pragmatic side, the side that is still very much that seven year old trapped in a genjutsu of his brother’s making, witnessing the murder of his parents, immediately wants to denounce any connection at all. _Itachi’s fault_ , the blind rage growls, _his sin_. The more practical side of him, the more inherently suspicious side, recognizes the pattern, though. It’s difficult to wave away the connection, not when Kakashi seems convinced of his danger. Apparently, when the Sandaime died, the remaining two elders reinstated him.

Which means he’s in power right now. 

Sasuke moves on to the next book before he can think too deeply about that. The next book divulges into the politics between the Okazayna clan and another, miscellaneous one, but doesn’t delve too deeply into anything of interest concerning the Okazayna themselves. He’s spent enough time in Otogakure to realize the influence that clans had on the villages, especially the more important ones. The Senju had considerably more than any other in Konoha, and while the Uchiha were a powerful clan with a hand in the police force, he’s never seen much about their influence anywhere, written or otherwise. From what he can tell, the Ozakayna are old and Yukigakure is steeped in their cultural influence. The Atayama clan is a footnote, hardly mentioned in reference to the Okazayna until Ayame’s father’s ascension to the throne. They’re easily old enough to have been one of the contenders during the Warring States Period, which makes it all the more strange that he’s never heard any mention of them, even in their own books. 

He needs more information. 

He summons Riku, and then, after a moment of consideration, summons Ryoko. Immediately, the two are at odds with each other. Riku flaps his brown dappled wings indignantly in Ryoko’s direction, as if he’s personally offended by her presence, which he might very well be. Ryoko, for her part, only lashes her tail to express her disdain, before turning her purple eyes towards him.

“Sasuke,” She says, so only he can hear. Riku, highly insulted that they’re excluding him from the conversation, glares murderously at them. “You haven’t summoned me in months and you expect me to run to your beckon call?” 

He likes Ryoko much more than any of the other snakes he’s contracted to, mostly because she has no actual association to Orochimaru besides being a snake, which seems like a petty thing to begrudge an entire species for. Technically speaking, Orochimaru had forced a contract with the head snake of the coven, at the time, who Sasuke hates the most. He reminds him _far_ too much of Orochimaru and his tunnels and experiments. 

“You don’t like being summoned.”

She makes a hissing sound he interprets to be a laugh.

“You’re right about that.” She coils around his arm, staring at Riku. “Why have you summoned us both?”

“I need to get into Orochimaru’s tunnels.”

Riku turns so quickly that he almost can’t follow the movement, before launching himself at his face. He lands on the armguard, but flaps his wings to emphasize how truly furious he is at Sasuke for ‘dragging him into this mess’.

“Quiet, feathers.” Ryoko purs. “You don’t even have to go into the tunnels. That’s my job.”

Riku’s eyes flick between them.

“She’s right.” He says, monotonous. She’s draped over his shoulders now, so he takes that as permission to run his fingers over her head. He’s not really guilty about not summoning any of them for a while - unlike the hawks, who he shares a sense of camaraderie with, the only thing he shares with most of the snakes is a general distaste for one another. They formed a contract with him out of obligation for freeing them of Orochimaru, so for now they’re stuck together, but Ryoko and a couple of others are the exception to that rule. “I need information from his archives, but I can’t leave Yukigakure. I need you two to get it for me.” 

“You expect me to travel with him?” Her tail tightens around his wrist. 

“Sorry.” He offers. She sighs. 

Riku sputters, insofar as a hawk can. “Are you kidding me? I don’t want to travel with her!”

“Suck it up.” Sasuke says, blatantly unsympathetic. “You shouldn’t be gone too long. Besides, you’re the one who said you liked Oto better.”

Riku does not look pleased that he brought that up. 

“You.” He snaps up some of his hair in his beak and tugs gently. “Are a _nightmare_.”

“Agreed.” Ryoko intones, and, well, at least they’re getting along. He runs an apologetic hand through Riku’s feathers, which he understands, and stops pulling his hair. He offers the both of them treats, because the only way to get them to do anything is to bribe them with food, and that finally gets both of their (albeit grudging) approval.

“What do you need me to find?” Ryoko asks, and he explains his parameters. She knows her way around the tunnels as well as he does, so he doesn’t need to provide directions or worry about her getting lost, thankfully. She dips her head once she’s done explaining, and drapes herself more solidly around his neck.

“If you don’t summon me for three months again, I’ll kill you.” Ryoko promises, and he resumes petting her. Riku continues to glower, but agrees. 

“Don’t kill each other.” He says. 

At that moment, Sakura enters the room, once again decked out in scrubs, a pair of gloves stretched over her hands, just in time to see Riku and Ryoko disappear.

She arches an eyebrow. “I thought your summons didn’t get along?”

“They don’t.” He says. He doesn’t say that they’ve gained a common goal in complaining about him. She doesn’t need to know that. 

“Where are you sending them together?” She suspicion in her tone isn’t unchecked, but he knows how to read her. He isn’t sure she’s forgiven him for abandoning Konoha, at least, not the way Naruto has overlooked it. He uses the word overlooked because they haven’t really talked about it, as Sasuke vehemently refuses to. His reasons for acting as he did are his own. 

“Nowhere in particular.” He replies, and then realizes how suspicious that sounds. “... Oto.” He corrects after a moment of silence, thick with tension. 

“Oto? Why there?”

“There are some documents I need them to get for me.”

She seems to accept this.

“Oh, by the way.” She pauses at the door. “Naruto was looking for you earlier. I think he’s in our room now.” She disappears around the corner, no doubt late for another surgery. He wonders how she convinced them to let her - one of the benefits of being Tsunade’s pupil, probably. 

Sasuke wonders why he wanted him, and then wonders if it’s going to be payback for the elbow in the face earlier.

Well, there’s only one way to find out. 

He follows the trail of guards who all recognize the description of a fifteen year old with bright blonde hair down a series of several labyrinthe-like hallways (all with their own set of stationed guards) until he finds the room Naruto is allegedly in. He has absolutely no idea what business Naruto has in this section of the palace and isn’t really too keen on finding out, but he knocks and pushes the door open anyways, only to be met with the image of Ayame, Kalani, and Naruto sitting cross legged on the carpeted floor. 

He stares at them, not sure what to address first about this… situation. Kalani pauses in the action of showing Naruto how to braid Ayame’s long hair, and all three of them glance up at them before Kalani waves animatedly and Naruto smiles brightly. Ayame turns her head as far as her braid allows, and the corner of her mouth turns up into a smile. She’s forgone the ceremonial veil and seems more dressed down for the occasion. Sasuke neglected to change out of his own clothes once the meeting was over (and they still smell faintly like a bonfire).

“... do your guards know you’re here?” Is the first thing he asks. 

Kalani snorts.

“They have a vague idea.” The look on her face is almost teasing. He’s baffled. “Besides, I’m with a very capable Konoha Shinobi, and now my fiance has come to join me, who has proven to be a force to be reckoned with.”

Sasuke grimaces at his little… show this morning. In his defense, he was entirely fed up with the Council’s bullshit and the relentless attempts on his life. 

“I stopped their bullshit.” Is what he says, which is also highly unprofessional, but so is the three of them sitting on the floor braiding the princess’ hair, so. 

“I’m sorry about them.” She says. “They’re very… close minded.”

That’s one way of putting it.

“Hey, what happened to your Oto friends?” 

Karin holed herself up in her room and refuses to speak to anyone until she finds the right documents (save for when she starts to argue with Suigetsu), Suigetsu is ‘becoming one with the lakes around here’ or whatever the fuck he said, and Juugo is probably off in some forest somewhere befriending the wildlife. 

“Busy.” Is what he says.

Naruto hums and attempts to copy the same movement that Kalani showed him, but ends up crossing the wrong strand. It’s a more intricate braid than he’s familiar with.

“Do you know how to braid hair?” Kalani asks. She beckons him forward, so he kneels next to Naruto, close enough that their shoulders touch. 

“A little.” He confesses, and doesn’t miss Naruto’s comically bewildered expression. 

“How?”

He shrugs. 

Itachi had long hair, and so had Izumi. He doesn’t think too hard about that.

“Like this.” She says, and he follows her movements and doesn’t even try to use the Sharingan. If he did, Naruto would pretend it was a competition all along and then claim he was cheating. 

“Ooh!” She says, when he copies it perfectly. “You’ve got this down. Look, Aya!” She positions the mirror so she can see. The smile that graces her lips is gentle as she intertwines her fingers with Kalani’s. Sasuke feels like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to be seeing. Then, she says, “Naruto, you practice on Sasuke.”

“What.”

“Yeah!” He lights up. “Your hair is long enough!”

Nowhere near as long as Ayame’s, though. He won’t be able to do any of the same types of braids. He rolls his eyes anyways while Naruto and Kalani work the little knots that accumulate when you’ve almost been assassinated five times throughout the day. 

“So,” Kalani says, stretching out a hair tie. “How go negotiations?”

Both he and Ayame grimace. 

“They… could be better.” Ayame says delicately. “There are some on the Council who… disagree with my decision to consult our Otogakure representatives and have them here.”

It’s almost funny, because none of them are even in the palace. 

“That Ito guy,” He says. “He seems more personally involved in Oto than the rest.”

Ayame almost sighs. “I haven’t the slightest clue what goes on in that man’s mind.” Sasuke would like to wager a bet that the answer is ‘nothing’, but digresses. “His disdain for Otogakure is… unprecedented. We’ve always been on good terms, even when they occupied the Land of Rice. His hatred seems a new development, as well. He’s never protested our involvement before. It might be that his hatred of _me_ supersedes any of his other goals or commitments, but it seems to have manifested recently…”

He raises an eyebrow at that.

“He _hates_ you?” Naruto asks.

“He’s _always_ been an asshole.” Kalani says. “But now he’s being more of an asshole than usual.”

“It could just be the tension of war.” Ayame offers. “It’s a… stressful time. It brings out the worst in people.”

“Some of it’s justified.” Sasuke shrugs - or, as much as he can, with Naruto hovering over his shoulder, tugging at his hair. As someone who spent an excessive amount of time there, he can vouch. “Not the city itself, but Orochimaru’s influence went far.”

Ayame sighs. “He’s… contested my judgement ever since my father passed. He was never too keen on the idea of my father ruling, either. I admit that many of the things he did were… misguided, or he approached them the wrong way, but it wasn’t enough to merit this level of disdain. It might be on the merit of my age.” She starts carefully. “It may be my inexperience, but Elrich is an accomplished advisor, and I’ve been nothing but civil save for… a few times.”

He snorts.

“What’s up with his clan?”

“Hmm?” She turns his way. “What about it?”

“I was reading about it earlier. There aren’t a lot of mentions about them for being such a prominent part of the Council and for how long they’ve been around.”

She purses her lips. “I’m not intimately familiar with the material in most of the libraries. My schooling was part of a strict specialized curriculum. I’m not sure why there isn’t much to be learned about them in the library. I might be able to answer some of your questions, though.”

He frowns. “You didn’t know? There’s practically nothing, except for a few stories. Were they active during the Warring States Period?”

“They were.” She inclines her head. “They were a prominent part of it, here. They fought alongside the Atayama and Sekigawa. Are you sure you didn’t read anything about that?”

“One book was missing after the fire.” He says. 

She frowns. “That’s… strange. I’ll talk to Elrich about the material in the library. Maybe I can lend you something of mine.” 

Kalani opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off abruptly by the fact that the door ices over, and then shatters, with a horrible cracking sound, into iced over chunks of wood. 

Looks like they’re on attempt number six, now. 

He leaps to his feet with a wordless snarl. He’s pretty sick of this. He draws his sword and stalks to the destroyed chunks of the door, and it’s all the warning he gets before a reinforced claw lodges into the wall where his head was two seconds ago. His Sharingan whirls to life and Chidori erupts around him in a protective sort of shield. There are two jonin-level attackers in front of them, one of which has apparently replaced his hands with what he can only imagine is metal blocks ending with tipped claws. He has no desire to know why anyone would do that. Luckily, he doesn’t have to think about it too much because the one draped in fur launches a barrage of thin, pointed icicles his way that remind him so strongly of Haku’s needles that he’s frozen in the memory for a minute, before melting them with a well placed fireball (careful to restrain himself so he doesn’t light the very flammable walls on fire). The other one lurches forward, and he’s about to deflect with his Chidori-charged sword, when Naruto launches a Rasengan his way. 

Within seconds, he has the clawed one pinned to the floor and tied up with wire, and Naruto is restraining the other one. Sasuke cuts off the end with his teeth. Naruto eyes him.

“Do you carry that with you everywhere?”

“Ever since the Forest of Death? Yes.” 

Kalani claps behind them, as if she hadn't almost just been murdered.

“Good work guys! Let’s get ‘em to interrogation!”

They end up handing the two of them over to the Dragon Guard who haul them to interrogation. The guards escort Ayame out and back to her own quarters, with a stern word from Elrich to _make sure the guards always know where you are_ , but she replies by saying that the protection she had was better, and Naruto tries not to smile too openly at the praise. 

He and Naruto end up back in his room (the corpse thankfully gone) and he sifts through the books again, and considers stealing those files back. Instead, he compiles his knowledge on a piece of scrap paper and tries to gather his thoughts. He’ll have to ask Ayame to borrow whatever she had been reading about, because it’s strange that such an important clan would be erased from history so thoroughly. 

“Hey,” Naruto says, and edges closer. “Can I keep practicing on you?”

“Whatever.” He goes back to writing, while Naruto practices braiding. 

“Don’t you think it’s weird that there was nothing on that one clan?”

“The Okazayna?”

“Yeah. It’s weird, right?”

“Hn.”

Did the Okazayna clan have any history with Orochimaru or the betting pools? He racks his brain, but comes up empty. He doesn’t recall Orochimaru ever mentioning them, or reading anything about them, or seeing them. He doesn’t know if they have any kekkei genkai, either. If they had a valuable kekkei genkai, they very well might have been in the rings, but unless he was lined up against one he never paid attention. There were just too many to keep track of. The files he’d told Riku and Ryoko to find might be able to shed some light on that situation, though. 

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Naruto calls. 

He’s not expecting Kakashi.

He looks between them with a quirked eyebrow, and Sasuke bats his hand away. 

“Tsunade wants to talk to you.” He says. Sasuke stares.

“... why?”

Kakashi shrugs, but there’s an urgent light to his eyes, so Sasuke unfolds himself from the floor, ignoring Naruto’s sound of protest, and moves to follow. The door shuts soundly behind them, and Kakashi’s hand is on his shoulder, guiding him.

“Did something happen?”

“What did you find out?” He asks instead.

Sasuke frowns.

“Not much. Just that Danzo got kicked off the Council on-” He chokes on the words. “And that he got reinstated when the Sandaime died.” 

Kakashi doesn’t point out his blunder, and the fingers, tight enough around his shoulder to bruise, lessen. “You didn’t go poking through any more files, did you?”

“No. What’s going on? Why does Tsunade want to see me?”

Kakashi is the mission leader. She’s the only one he ever has an audience with. If this requires him to be there, that means something is wrong and it directly involves him. Given his position, it could be any number of things, but he doesn’t like how tensed Kakashi is. 

“Don’t tell her that you’re looking into Danzo.” Is what he says. Sasuke shakes himself free of his grip. “What’s so bad about Danzo?”

Kakashi’s eyes are dark. “It’s a suspicion.” He says quietly. “That I haven’t brought up with the Hokage yet. And I suggest that we both keep it that way, if we don’t want to risk a war.” 

“This have anything to do with the six assassination attempts today?”

“It might.” He says lightly, and steers them both into the waiting room. “Ayame will be here in a minute-”

There’s not a second before attempt Seven commences, and it seems that his favorite pyromaniac is back, because all the sudden there are flames dancing across the floorboards and painting everything in dancing red and orange hues. He wastes no time in slamming his hands to the ground and watching a wave of earth crack through the wood and snuff out the flames, but after a moment, there’s more. He flicks the Sharingan on, and follows the leaping motions of the flames back to their origins. He sees the chakra before he sees the person, and it’s the strangest sensation he’s ever felt. 

Behind him, Kakashi has his Sharingan out as well. 

“I’ll put out the flames.” He says, and a wave of earth folds over the swirling inferno. The heat chokes his lungs. Ash fills his throat, like a Katon gone wrong. He draws his sword and leaps after the nimble figure, wearing an ornately carved dragon mask. Chidori crackles across the ground with a triumphant cry, but the figure leaps through a burnt opening in the wood and darts across the tundra.

“Don’t pursue!” Kakashi shouts, and Sasuke whirls around, mouth fixed in a snarl. Ayame emerges into the burning room, embers dancing across the floorboards. Sasuke pushes a hand through his hair and sheathes his sword. Kakashi is right. He shouldn’t attempt to chase the figure through unfamiliar territory into what could be an ambush. 

“There’s number seven.” He says blithely. 

Kakashi eyes the smoldering wood with a sigh. 

“Let’s continue this conversation somewhere else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juugo can talk to animals and is therefore a Disney Princess. 
> 
> Anyways I had fun writing this chapter and the many attempts on Sasuke's life. I'm not sure I'm completely happy with the way this turned out, it kind of fought me. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Stolen Locks and Plots of Treason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang uncovers treason.

“Why is my consulting room on fire?” Ayame says as she sweeps past them, one eyebrow raised. Sasuke doesn’t bother glancing behind him - already, the jonin and whoever else they can afford are putting out the flames before they can do any more damage. 

“Our arsonist friend is back,” Sasuke deadpans, voice dryer than the smoky air. He wonders how, exactly, they managed to attack twice in the same day. Obviously they wouldn’t had to be in close proximity to the castle - especially considering how many guards there were, so he can only assume that they were already there or were recognizable to the guards as familiar. Effectively, not a threat. 

“Sasuke! Finally making friends.” Kakashi exclaims cheerfully. “Though I do have to question your choice of company.” 

Given that Kakashi has seen both team 7 and Hebi, Kakashi knows full well what type of people he associates himself with, and being one of those people, has no business making that observation. His subsequent thought mostly concerns the repercussions of setting him on fire, but then Kakashi will start drawing parallels, and he doesn’t need any more ammunition. He already refuses to let them live down the situation from when they were twelve and had ended up with one of the old houses in his compound half aflame because _apparently_ using fireballs to cook is not a wise decision, and after that incident Naruto was banned from the kitchen, and the compound in general for even suggesting such a thing (nevermind that Sasuke had agreed to go along with it, mostly out of morbid curiosity and a healthy sense of pyromania that all Uchiha were apparently born with, but he agreed nonetheless). 

“What does Tsunade want with me?” He asks instead, because he’s tired of this day. He really doesn’t think he has it in him to endure more political conversation. If nothing else, the assassination attempts give him something to do. 

He realizes then how much he _despises_ politics.

Kakashi leads them to a different room, with a conspicuous lack of flame-hurling assailants. Ayame closes the door and draws the curtains behind them, beckoning them to the table at the center of the room. Kakashi procures a scroll and sets it on the table, before resuming his position at the door.

Which means he’s not supposed to read whatever Tsunade wrote. 

Ayame is staring at him, too, like she knows something. His thoughts snag on that like a barb. 

Ayame averts her eyes, and he begins to read.

Night is upon them as Sasuke wanders back to his room with the intention of taking another look at the Uchiha marriage traditions - he’s made a fair bit of headway, but there’s still quite a bit to go, and he hadn't been expecting them to be as lengthy as they were. He probably should’ve been, considering how extensive burial rituals were (and how he was denied the right to partake in those rituals, for two reasons. The first being that each Uchiha body needed to be burned, their ashes scattered to the Naka river, and at the age of seven, it would’ve been impossible for him to have produced enough fire to burn all of them. The second, being that ANBU was required to clean the crime scene quickly, and he hadn't been discharged from the hospital until later). 

He finds Sakura, sprawled out on the couch, face down. When she hears him enter, she picks her face off the pillow to squint at him through bleary green eyes, red rimmed with exhaustion, and it kind of reminds him of that time last month that Naruto convinced them all to get high (given that he has the ability to breathe fire and a strong, ingrained sense of paranoia, that had not been one of their shining moments, and he’s just lucky that they had been in the Compound and that Konoha is required to pay for any damage done to it. Tsunade hadn't found their little stint very amusing. Kakashi, on the other hand, had enjoyed it _immensely_ ). 

He stares at her.

“Four hour hospital shift.” She grins, still half asleep. “I delivered a baby, and this one guy had a sword in his stomach. And then an old guy tried to freeze over the ER with what has to be the _weirdest_ kekkei genkai I’ve ever seen.” 

He snorts, then glances around. It’s strange not to see Naruto in the immediate vicinity. After he came back, he had made it his personal responsibility to keep watch on Sasuke and his whereabouts at any given time, as if the ANBU squad assigned to monitor him hadn't been doing that exact thing. It wasn’t as if Sasuke really went anywhere, anyways. He had holed himself up in the compound and the surrounding woods for the first two weeks (once he’d been released from the hospital and Tsunade made certain of whatever Orochimaru had altered about his physiology), trying to see if his hawks and snakes could get along, waiting for the rumors to settle, before Sakura and Naruto had physically pulled him out and forced him to socialize. 

“I dunno.” She mumbles. “He said he was going out or something.”

Sasuke hums and picks through the files, Tsunade’s words at the back of his head.

Later, he can deal with that later.

He props this one open to reveal an artistic rendition of a traditional marriage - this one detailing the gift giving between the two families that would determine whether or not the engagement was acceptable. Generally, both parties needed to offer something of value, to prove that they both contributed to the prosperity of the marriage and couple, before both families would consent. He assumes this exchange has already happened. 

The single lamp, kerosene burning behind a gilded metal cage, hangs high on the wall, clear of any hanging curtains or silks or tapestries. This is an old room, he thinks, because it could not incorporate the wiring necessary for lights. Instead, it’s lit by a single lamp, moonlight scattered through the high, circular window near the ceiling. He doesn’t mind how early it gets dark here, or the quiet the darkness brings with it. He returns to his file, though, and wishes for a better light source.

His reading is interrupted by a guard. Their face is carefully hidden behind a ceramic mask, covered head to toe in dark fabrics that remind him of Haku. 

Sakura cracks one eye open to watch their exchange, hair falling out of its ponytail, before she deems the conversation unimportant and returns to sleep. 

“The Princess requests your presence.” Is all the guard says. He returns his files and closes the door quietly behind him.

“We’re meeting the Priestess that will marry us.” Ayame says without preamble. He easily matches her brisk pace as they walk towards the end of the hall. This hallway is filled with windows, great, towering walls of glass so the courtyard is visible on one side, and the garden on the other. “It’s customary. I’m aware that the Uchiha do not include one in their ceremonies?”

“The Clan Elders oversaw the marriages.” He says. “The families mediate.”

“Technically the same can be said about family mediation for us, however given the circumstances, we’re making due with what we have.”

Sasuke is well aware that this is the polite way of moving around the topic of his dead family.

“Priests or priestesses are typically only used in religious ceremonies, or marriages of political importance.” She explains. “For the sake of posterity, Himiko has agreed to help us. She hails from one of the Eastern tribes. There aren’t many left, since Yukigakure’s founding, but we share the same religion and is well renowned among the people and her tribe. It will do well to foster connections wherever we can find them.”

She ushers them through the grand, brassy doors and into a room thick with incense. Plants of the likes he’s never seen are potted at the back of the room. At the ceiling is a glass mosaic depicting the moon goddess. Directly beneath it is a circular table, and a woman in white clothes sits cross legged, head bowed.

The creak of the door alerts her to their presence before Ayame has a chance to announce them in, and she offers them a crinkled smile, long hair pinned back into a bun. 

“Himeko,” Ayame drops her head into a bow, and Sasuke does the same. 

“Princess, the pleasure is all mine.” She returns the gesture, before turning her gaze to Sasuke. Her voice is deep and slightly throaty, like many Uchiha get in old age, after years of fire breathing has taken a toll on their throats. She reminds him of his Aunt. She was responsible for the upkeep of the Naka shrine, a duty that now falls to him, and a duty that he hasn’t bothered to adhere to since he was twelve. He had cleared it once, the night before he deserted, searching for the wisdom of his ancestors. He had found none, because the shrine, however clean, is still cold and empty, the ceremonial flames long since doused. Sasuke doesn’t know if he believes in an afterlife, but he remembers his Aunt’s teachings, how she used to take care of him when his family was away on individual missions, how she had taken him to the stream, how she had pressed a frog in his hand and how he’d made a face and she’d laughed, and explained how everything was connected. It’s one of his better memories.

“Sasuke, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He bows his head respectfully, and they seat themselves. 

“We thought it would be appropriate to detail the ceremony so you know what to expect.” Ayame explains. “Since your traditions vary from ours.” 

“It will be publicized.” She explains. “And the marriage itself will take place in the courtyard. All the representatives - including your friends from Otogakure - will be present to witness it. All we’re required to do is repeat a few phrases in Yukigakure’s native language-” He grimaces a bit, at that, and Ayame smiles. “We’ll practice,” She promises, before continuing. “Himeko will join our hands, and Kakshi and Elrich, assuming familial roles, will wrap ceremonial beads around them to symbolize our unity. After that, we’ll proceed to the great hall, where the other representatives will participate in the gift exchange. This is meant to foster good will between us and all other nations. You’re not required to do anything except not stab anyone.”

She stares at him, but he recognizes the humor behind it, referencing his little show this morning. Himeko arches a brow. 

“Most of the responsibilities of the ceremony fall to me.” She explains, casting a dark lock of hair behind her ear. “You’ll be instructed on where to sit and when to speak, and you’ll practice what you have to say.”

“Is there any other tradition of yours that you’d like to add?” Ayame asks before they can proceed. “We’ve incorporated some of your suggestions into the decorations - you can see them later, if you’d like, and we’ve done the same for the clothing, which is already being commissioned.”

Sasuke thinks about it, before shaking his head. Most of what he’s read is between the families or preceding the wedding, or has to do with engagements, so it’s not of any use here. “Most of our traditions take place before the marriage or between the families.”

Ayame nods, graciously not bothering to pause on that comment. 

“There will be protestors, I’m sure, but to what degree is uncertain. There are many who wish to prevent this marriage,” Oh, Sasuke is _more_ than acquainted with a handful of said people, some of whom have the unfortunate tendency to _set things on fire_ in his vicinity. “Some of whom you’ve already seen.” She spares him a wry smile. “We will be guarded by our Shinobi, but be prepared.”

Sasuke makes a noise of agreement, and listens as Himeko explains the cultural significance behind their traditions. She explains the beads - how the pearls came from the sea, and how the spirit of the ocean would watch over them in their years together, how to gift tradition started, a little about her own home back in the East - and he finds it reminds him a little of something like that memory of the shrine and of his Aunt. He finds he doesn't quite mind.

As they turn to leave, as Himeko continues to pray behind them, hands folded and head bent, he isn’t expecting Ayame to catch his wrist as the door swings shut behind them. He raises his eyebrows, a question, but she only presses a finger and begins to drag him forward.

“Come with me.” Is all she offers by way of explanation. “I’m not as skilled at sensing others as you are. I’ll need you to tell me if you sense someone approaching.”

“Why-”

He’s cut off abruptly as she turns another corner so fast that she nearly yanks his arm out of its socket. 

“To the left.” He mutters, and she slows instantly, once again adopting the regal grace of someone of her status, shoulders lowered and chin raised as if she hadn't just sprinted down two corridors, not a hair out of place. Like clockwork, two guards round the corner and give them both an appraising look. Ayame drops his wrist before they can see, her eyes focused on some point ahead, just over the guard’s shoulders, and despite the fact that they’re both taller (though not by much), and boast much broader physiques, she still manages to command the attention of the room, appearing bigger and more authoritative, like a bird puffing out its plumage. 

As soon as they’re out of sight, they resume their brisk pace. Sasuke chooses to assume she’ll explain what’s going on when they reach whatever destination she has in mind.

She leads them down a tight spiral staircase, her dress dragging behind her like seafoam. The guardrail rattles as they descend, their footsteps hollow in the narrow, tall space. 

“Behind that door.” He says, and they both freeze. The person isn’t moving at all, but he can sense them. The person hesitates, before turning right. Sasuke waits, probing for their presence and any other in the area, including familiar ones. When the figure is gone, he nods sharply, and her fingers close around the metal knob of the door.

She procures a key from the folds of her dress - long and decorative, and turns left, ushering him towards a nondescript, heavy metal door near the end of the hallway, hidden behind a sharp corner. She turns to look at him, and he breathes deeply, like Karin taught him, stretching his presence to search for any more. There’s a floor beneath them, he can tell by the big empty space below, but he had been under the assumption that this was the lowest floor, besides the storage rooms. He shakes his head, and she nods. She fits the key into the lock and twists. The door clicks and she pushes it inwards with a long, agonized _creak_. 

Ayame winces, glancing down the tunnel of the hallway, but there’s no one around to hear.

She gathers herself and starts down the stairs. He closes the door behind them, and for a moment, the darkness swallows them. 

He opens his palm and a flame dances across open skin, like candlelight. It casts eerie, shifting orange light upon the bare, dark walls. The steps, which seem too big between, creak and wail, old wood unaccustomed to visitors. He reaches the last step, and hard floor greets him. Ayame is waiting, and hands him a lamp. In the thin, capricious light, her face is painted with long, gaunt shadows, like an oil painting. 

He lights the lamp, and she swings it around. It’s still hard to see, the bubble of light swaying with the movement of the lamp.

“There’s no light switches down here.” Ayame explains, and her voice seems louder in the dark. Before them are rows upon rows of bookshelves, all stocked with volumes of literature. Where the books - some as thick around as his fist - don’t fit, they’re stacked evenly in cardboard boxes at the foot of the bookshelves. The air is stale and full of dust, like it’s been stagnating for far too long. “This room is older than the palace itself. Even if it wasn’t, the Council would never let anyone down here to renovate.” She huffs.

The Council?

“What is this?” He asks bluntly.

“The archives.” She replies, striding down the long lines of books. Most of the bookshelves just about reach his shoulders, but they’re so packed that there’s nearly no space between the books at all. “They belong to the Council, and technically speaking, no one is supposed to be down here.” She leans down to cast the light at one particular shelf. “It’s off limits to everyone other than the Council. They’re responsible for all records kept in the palace.”

“Even you?”

“ _Especially_ me.” She grins, a smirk that is undoubtedly Kalani's influence gracing her features, and holds the key up for him to see. “I may not be a full fledged Shinobi, but I did manage to steal the key.”

He stares at the key, and then thinks about what Ito’s face might look like if he realized she took it, and smirks. 

“What do you want down here?”

“Well,” She says, crouching to pull a heavy book off the shelf, blowing on it to clear it of the age old dust settled upon its cover. It’s obviously an old book. If the embroidery on the leather wasn’t evidence enough, the thin, yellowed paper confirms it. It looks like this might have come out before the _printing press_ was invented, actually. “What you said earlier, about the library - it made me suspicious. I scoured my own reading material for anything that might be indicative of the Ozakayna clan, but I couldn’t find anything, strangely enough. So I went to the library to sort through what books I could find on the subject, but I found the material decidedly lacking. But,” She thumbs through the pages. “I distinctly remember reading about the Ozakayna clan. But I only remember reading about it a handful of times - when I was down here.”

Sasuke stills.

“This is the first time I’ve broken in.” She smiles wryly. “Technically. My father would come down here with me. I’d forgotten about it - I was so young, I eventually must have convinced myself that I was in the upstairs library, or that it was simply common knowledge. I forget sometimes that my learning material was customized by the Council, which Ito leads. So then I thought,” She continues, a crease between her eyebrows, and Sasuke catches on.

He kneels beside her, and he’s almost glad he can’t see what’s on the ground, because he’s almost certain that it isn’t clean. 

“Why would Ito choose to censor information about his own clan?”

“Ito doesn’t seem like the type to be humble.” He says dryly.

“He _isn’t_.” She says derisively. With a short, frustrated sigh, she stands up again. “If only I could remember where the damn thing was.” She pauses to collect herself. “Please forgive my lack of composure.” 

“This morning you watched me stab someone.” He points out, flat. 

She considers, before huffing a laugh. “You’re quite right.” She says, before sweeping forward to continue their search. 

“Do they have a system of organization?” His eyes, blood red with the Sharingan, roam the walls. It looks like Orochimaru’s study. He hadn't spent long poking around in there, because most of the observations concerned whatever experiments he was currently undertaking, and he didn’t want to accidentally stumble upon his own file, or worse, anything Kabuto had written, about him or otherwise. The system would have also been more helpful if his handwriting was decipherable at all. 

“If they do, it isn’t marked down here.” She purses her lips. “I’ve been looking at the author's names and that doesn’t seem to be the common thread, so it isn’t alphabetical.” 

“Chronological?” He suggests. 

“It could be…” She agrees, lowering the light again. Sasuke glances around. One of the books protrudes slightly from the rest of the shelf, and unlike the rest of them, isn’t covered by any dust at all. In fact, he spots a spattering of ash along the spine. 

The book from the library.

He taps her shoulder and points her to it.

“This is the book that was stolen.” 

Her frown deepens as she looks down at it. She pulls it free, squinting down at it and opening the cover. On the inside is writing. 

“Can your Sharingan read this?” She frowns. He looks over her shoulder down at the text, hastily written, sloping and rushed, smudged together. The three tomoe spin, but he doesn’t see anything.

“No.” He says. “But Kakashi might be able to.”

She closes it and tucks it beneath her arm.

Sasuke stiffens.

“What is it?”

“There’s someone at the door.” He whispers. 

Her eyes dart to the corner of the room.

“There’s another way out.” She says, her mouth twisted into the faintest grimace, and starts walking. “How close are they?”

He concentrates. “There’s two now. They’re in front of the door.”

She leads them quickly to a black door, hidden behind a bookcase that they have to push out of the way, disrupting cobwebs and more spiders than Sasuke cares to think about. Ayame positions the lamp and hands it to him. “Hold it there.” She instructs, and undoes two of her hair clips.

“You can pick locks.” He says, surprised. He would have just broken the door to get through, if it came to that, even though his Chokuto is hardly suited for that, but he could have. He wasn’t expecting the Princess to have that particular skill in her arsenal. She sighs heavily. “Kalani,” She starts primly, “Is a _terrible_ influence.”

After a few more seconds of fiddling, dread creeps down his spine. 

“They’re coming in.” He hisses. 

“Put the light on the bookshelf and put it out.” 

He does just that, and as the darkness swallows them, Ayame grabs his hand and drags him out the door. 

He closes it as quietly as he can and waits there for a moment, perched to attack should they wander closer.

Ayame, now with half her hair loose, sighs. The room they’re in is cramped and full of dust and something else. He doesn’t know what he is and isn’t sure if he should want to. Her nose crinkles as the edge of her dress trails through it. 

The humming of machinery follows them, hollow and omnipresent, like the metallic banging of pans and the tinny clanging that followed, like someone was banging on the side of the big metal box. Boiler room.

“Do you think they’ll notice the book is gone?” He asks, as Ayame opens the door. 

“Well,” She says. “Even if they do, it’s probably in bad taste to accuse the Princess and her fiance of committing theft.” 

“If anyone would do it, it’s Ito.” He points out. 

“I’m afraid that not even Ito is impervious to appearances.” Her tone is sweet. “When properly motivated, I’m sure he can be civil.”

He lets that threat hang in the air for a second, with a breath of a laugh, just because he really wants to see it come to fruition, before following after her.

Naruto is still gone and Sakura still sound asleep by the time they get back, so when Ayame invites him to the consulting room to look over the book with her (in anticipation of any genjutsu that might be unleashed upon them should they begin to read in earnest), he agrees. 

Once they’re certain that they’re safe to talk, Ayame immediately brings up Tsunade.

“Tsunade’s proposals. Are you allowed to talk about them?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Probably not.”

Her writing had divulged a couple of things she wanted him to bring up with Ayame in terms of treaties, but if she wanted to do that she could have easily asked Ayame herself instead of trying to leverage him against her. The second thing she mentioned was… significantly more concerning. 

“ _Memorize this with your Sharingan: Fights have started breaking out along the border of Yukigakure, and one of the instigators that ANBU identified was carrying blueprints of the palace you’re staying at. They had a hit on you, and contacts with two of your other assassins. Those two were identified and both came up with connections to Orochimaru. All three were missing nin suspected of having their hands in Orochimaru’s betting pools. I know you were involved with those fighting rings; were you ever recognized within them? It’s safe to assume that, given Kakashi’s report and your suspicion of Ito, that the assassins have a common employer, and if they’re aware of the rings, then they might be aware of you too. If this information were to get out it would jeopardize the marriage. For now, try to contain Ito’s suspicion and prevent him from spreading any rumors. I’m giving you free range to do whatever you need to to find this link and eliminate it, such that it doesn’t endanger the mission. Send anything you find back to me._ ”

Sasuke considers Kakashi’s warning - wonders why he mentioned Danzo at all.

“Tsunade warned me about Ito, and warned me not to publicize my performances in the fighting rings.”

Ayame studies him curiously. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping that information classified?”

Sasuke scans the book. “I don’t care about Konoha.”

She blinks. “Then why go through with the marriage?” 

“That doesn’t mean I want war.” He replies, not looking away. 

“Did you prefer Otogakure, then?” She perches on her toes to retrieve a book from her shelf.

He thinks about his empty compound, and then Oto’s long, dark underground halls and betting pools and Orochimaru.

“Not really.”

She slides the book back into place.

“Then where do your allegiances lay?”

“Why do you ask?” He drawls, tearing his eyes away from the text.

“It’s good to understand others motivations.” 

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“It’s good to know every significant person’s motivations so that you can manipulate them, should the need show up.” He corrects. She doesn’t look even a touch abashed.

“That is how these things tend to work.” She concedes. “But I’m asking this as a friend and an equal. What do you fight for, if not your village?”

“You say that as if there’s nothing else to fight for,” He says, and thinks about the deepest rot he can imagine, the rot that all villages are built on. He thinks of Konoha, and its underground deals with Otogakure, how it had enabled unethical experimentation, and the way Yukigakure drove the Eastern tribes out upon colonization. At least Oto was _honest_ about its less savory aspects.

“You’re deflecting.” Her tone isn’t accusatory, though.

So, instead, he thinks of Itachi and his compound, and he thinks of Naruto, half submerged at the Valley of the End, thinks of Team 7, Team Hebi, and says: “Myself.”

Ayame’s eyes crinkle at the edges, like he’d shared an inside joke.

“I think ‘the village’ is too broad a motivation.” She says. “That’s an excuse - that’s an answer to hide behind. A person fights for other _things_. Objects, people, material possessions. The village is a _concept_. ‘The village’ is a lot of things, too big. Too impersonal.”

“Are you going somewhere with this?” He balances his head on his palm, making her aware that she has his attention.

“I don’t say anything without purpose.” She declares firmly, and he snorts. 

Her expression softens. “I want to protect Kalani and Elrich and everyone in the palace. Yukigakure comes as a natural extension. I want to protect Yukigakure because I want to protect them. If I were to only say that I wanted to protect Yukigakure, without specifying that I want to protect Kalani and Elrich, then it’s backwards. Because then I want to protect all the bad things about it, too. Because I want to protect them, I must want to protect the city. Because I want to protect the city, I want to protect all aspects of the city. See the difference? It lies in the origin of that want.”

“Naruto wants to protect the village.” He says absentmindedly.

“Does he want to protect his friends, or does he want to protect the village?”

And Sasuke… sometimes Sasuke _isn’t sure_. 

“Both.” He says eventually, because it’s better then admitting that. 

Ayame smiles. “I would say that he wants to protect his friends. Sakura, Kakashi. _You_.”

Sasuke stares at her, and she smiles back, like she’s privy to some inside joke. 

“Have you made any headway with the book?”

“There’s no genjutsu.” He replies, following her abrupt non sequitur with ease. “I haven’t got around to reading anything yet. What are you looking for?”

“I want to corroborate dates. If that book was confiscated, then that means it has valuable knowledge - knowledge that we can assume to be true.”

He glances at the clock. “Where should we keep it?”

“Take it with you.” She says. “You’re more skilled than most of my guards. Just keep it well hidden.”

He nods and moves to stand up. 

“Goodnight.” She smiles.

As he leaves, his head is swimming. 

‘ _Myself_ ’ wavers in his mind, with less conviction than ever.

Naruto is back in the room when he gets there, and he and Sakura are hunched over something. Sakura makes an alarmed sound when she sees him enter, and Naruto, back turned to him, makes a strange yelping noise and passes _something_ to him that she cradles securely in her arms so that he can’t see it, shoulders past him and darts out of the room.

He stares while Naruto fidgets and laughs, an octave too high. 

“What was that” He quirks an eyebrow, and he sputters.

“Nothing! That wasn’t anything. Haha.” 

Suspicious as _fuck_ , but Sasuke’s going to let this one go, if only because it’s been a long, _long_ day. He lays down on the floor next to the box, Naruto looking down at him for a second, before joining him on the ground, almost shoulder to shoulder.

“So.” Naruto says. “What were you doing?”

He thinks about telling him straight up, but Naruto isn’t great at keeping secrets, and Ayame might kill him if he shares that they broke into an off limits library and stole a book.

“Talking with Ayame.”

Naruto sits up.

“O-Oh? What about? More political stuff?”

“Yeah.” Sasuke says, after a minute, and then pushes himself up. “Why do you want to protect Konoha?”

Naruto frowns. “Sasuke-”

“Just answer the question.”

“Because…” He rocks back. “It’s my home.”

 _An excuse_ , Ayame had said.

Sasuke frowns. 

“And because you’re there!” Naruto exclaims, then, scooting up beside him. 

“Because…”

“When you were gone, I protected Konoha so that you could come home, and now I protect it because you’re there.” He bumps his shoulder with his, and when he smiles, his entire face lights up. 

“Me?”

“Course, idiot. Why do you think I tried so hard to get you back?” He pauses, then after a sheepish moment adds, “And because Sakura and Kakashi and Iruka and everyone back at the academy and old lady Tsunade are back there, too.” 

Sasuke stares at him for a long moment, trying to read his face, looking for… something. He’s not sure what he finds. 

Naruto smiles. “And I’d do it again.”

And Sasuke _gets_ it, maybe. 

Naruto laces their fingers together, and they sit shoulder to shoulder, with nothing but the quiet echoing back at him, and Sasuke forgets about whatever Naruto was trying to hide entirely. He leans his head slightly against his, only a little, and Naruto makes up for the rest of the distance. 

' _Myself_ ' cracks, thoroughly and completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke, you dumb child, you can care about people! 
> 
> This chapter is mostly focused on Sasuke's relationships with other people and with himself, because he's in dire need of some character development and I needed to establish his motivations and where they lie. It doesn't make sense for Sasuke to be particularly invested in any village itself because of his long history with them, and since he was much more involved in Oto's underground knows all about all the shady things that the villages are doing - something that was never explored in cannon. Like. At all. 
> 
> Of course, in terms of development Sasuke has quite a ways to go. He'll get there. Eventually.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. The World's Worst Field Trip

The better part of three years spent under Orochimaru’s careful tutelage and a lifetime of conditioning have left Sasuke with what he considers a healthy amount or wariness, in light of his career choice. That’s why when he hears the floorboards squeak, weight shifting sideways, Sasuke jerks awake. They’ve doubled their security efforts, which hasn’t done his sleeping habits any favors. He has the guard’s routines memorized by this point, right down to the guard on duty. One of them has the unfortunate habit of pacing, which wakes him up every time he does it.

This happens every few hours or so, whenever the guards switch, but Sasuke’s internal clock, made impeccable by the time spent underground and the strange length of days in Yukigakure, tells him that no such thing should be happening yet. The weight shifts - several sets of footsteps. The chakra signals of the guards have disappeared. Which leads him to the logical conclusion that this is yet another assassination attempt.

He yanks his sword from beneath the bed - just within arm’s length so that he can reach it - and rolls onto the floor, considerate of the weight he puts on them. The floorboards creak - he commited which ones to memory. The ones around the door specifically. So he takes care when he slinks up to the door, and rips it open, arm drawn back, ready to decapitate whoever it is out there.

Kakashi is awaiting him, and he holds his hands up disarmingly.

“Oh.” Sasuke says, flat, and sheathes his sword. “It’s you.”

“Would you prefer that I was an assassin?” Kakashi asks mildly. 

He grunts. 

“What do you want?” 

“As to the point as ever.” Kakashi sighs, as if he isn’t draping himself against his door frame at two in the morning. “Can’t I just come and visit my students?”

“It’s two in the morning.” Sasuke informs him. “I don’t have the energy to deal with you.”

“It’s actually three.” He replies. “But I suppose that’s fair. The Princess wants to see you.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Now go get dressed.”

Kakashi slams his own door in his face. 

It’s too early for this bullshit.

A short two minutes later, he’s dressed and his hair is reasonably combed, and he’s as put together as anyone can really expect him to be at three in the morning. He’s forgone the snarl in his hair, just behind his left ear after a good thirty seconds of trying to brush it out. 

“You seemed pretty jumpy back there.” Kakashi says, a question in his voice.

“There’ve been at least ten assassination attempts in the last two days.” He says flatly. 

“I think you’re setting a new world record.” 

He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “Did Ayame say why she wanted me?” 

Specifically, did she mention why it had to be at three in the morning? 

“Ahh,” He tucks his hands in his pockets. “She might’ve.”

Which is Kakashi-speak for _I know exactly what’s going on and I have exactly no intention of telling you_. It’s not as amusing when he’s on the receiving end.

The rest of their walk is silent, Kakashi glancing over his shoulder every once in a while. Sasuke doesn’t ask. Kakashi is predisposed to tracking - the entire Hatake line is. He doesn’t have scours of chakra like he or Naruto, but he does have exceptional control over it - Sasuke supposes this is the tradeoff, of sorts. Someone like Naruto, with access to the Kyubei’s chakra, will never have the precision of someone like Sakura or Tsunade or Kakashi. It’s what makes him good at tracking, and it’s a possibility that he senses something that Sasuke doesn’t. So he doesn’t ask.

The halls are quiet at night, the floors painted with shadow and opaque moonlight, where it peeks through the wide windows. The lack of guards is just a bit unnerving. Things like this remind him of Orochimaru’s tunnels - they lack the same claustrophobia, the conscious reminder that there were no windows, no escape, but the silence sets him on edge. There were some corridors that were silent, underground. More commonly, they were filled with sound. The hushed whispering of the prisoners he set free, the humming of wires and machinery, shuffling, Kabuto drilling into a testee, if he made the unfortunate mistake of wandering too close to that mess. The thought makes him all the happier that the tunnels are being sealed permanently.

Kakashi pulls the doors open with a long, brassy whine. 

Ayame, unbothered by the fact that it’s currently three in the morning sits serenely on a pillow, just in front of the conference table. 

“Ah.” She clasps her hands together, the long, loose silvery fabric of her sleeves catching the light like molten glass. “You’re both here. Fantastic. Sasuke, come here,” She waves him over exuberantly, and he suppresses the urge to sigh. Behind him, Kakashi lingers by the door, ever wary. 

“Now, I’m aware that we went over wedding etiquette just yesterday,” She adjusts her veil, “But we’ve had some _last minute_ change of plans.”

That was one way of putting it.

“Now, I was conferring with Kakashi earlier, we were having a very engaging conversation,” Sasuke knows that’s a lie. Kakashi is the worst conversationalist he’s ever met. “And it was brought to my attention the varying sects of my population. We were having a discussion on the participation of clans in the government, and I realized that it might be beneficial to the marriage if we were to incorporate a specific marriage tradition into our plans.”

Sasuke narrows his eyes. The only reason Kakashi would be speaking to Ayame like that was if he had orders from Tsunade to convey, or…

The book. Shit. 

The book that is still in his room, sitting unprotected beneath the bed. He had placed seals around it, sure, but if it wasn’t within his immediate grasp then it was unprotected as far as he was concerned. 

The silence rings long, for a moment, full of tension, and she picks up on his train of thought in an instance, taught to read body language and facial cues, she has a better handle on social etiquette than he ever will. 

“You see, there’s an old and mostly outdated tradition that, should we indulge in, it might foster goodwill within the more conservative branch of the public. So, I’ve arranged for a trip to be taken at the earliest convenience to the Goddess' Temple. It’s tradition for a wedding couple to go and pray for blessings at Her altar. It does not demand much of us, and parts of it will be broadcasted. We will be escorted on the journey, of course, but no one other than the couple are allowed into the temple during this time.” The glint in her eyes is telling.

 _We can’t speak openly right now_ , it says.

“... I understand.” He says, at length. “When will we be leaving?”

“I’ll have someone summon you when preparations are made. Do understand, the temple is quite far out. It will take at least half a day’s journey to reach it, so we should leave as early as possible. On that note, be wary of what clothing you choose to prepare. Please, feel free to bring anything you would like to keep yourself occupied. I’m sure Kakashi would be happy to help you carry your things.”

 _Give the book to Kakashi_. 

“Of course.” He bows his head, and starts to his feet. Kakashi is quickly by his side, glancing at the upper levels of the room. Hidden behind thick curtains and drapes is an observation deck, and he has no doubt that someone is watching them. That in mind, he averts his gaze and lets Kakashi guide him out of his room. 

“If you need any help,” Kakashi says, voice deceptively light, “You know where to find me.”

The door clicks quietly behind him, and he leaves in possession of the book.

Sasuke sighs. He might as well use this time while he has the chance. 

About an hour later, they’ve amassed an entourage of guards (including Kakashi and the rest of Team 7) to bring them to the temple. Sasuke would really prefer not to make the trip at all. He’s not particularly adjusted to the cold. Konoha is muggy in the summer, where the breath sticks to your lungs and the air is hot and hard to breathe. It usually doesn’t snow, and when it does, it doesn’t stick around for long. He wasn’t really above ground long enough in Oto to experience much of that climate, but he remembers it being swampy. The mosquitoes were easily the worst thing about it, but Riku seemed to like it. At least _this_ place doesn’t have any fucking _mosquitoes_ , even if the cold isn’t naturally conducive to his flames. 

He’s standing at the gates, gradually cycling chakra through his body to help regulate his temperature. He wishes Kakashi had told them that particular trick before they decided to go tromping to Yukigakure. 

Kakashi nudges a cloak towards him. “I’m not watching you shiver all the way to the temple again.” He sounds almost desperate. “Just take the cloak, brat.”

Sasuke decides to humor him, just this once, and wraps it around his person, and buttons it up most of the way. Kakashi sighs heavily and does the last button, before patting his head, like he’s a dog.

Ayame approaches him then, flanked on both sides by guards, a pleasantly blank smile pinned to her face. 

She glances at Kakashi, and he follows her gaze, before nodding imperceptibly. She loses some of the tension in her shoulders. 

“That’s a relief.” She tells him, and then tips her head towards Naruto. “He looks like he wants to talk.”

Naruto is none too subtly staring right at him, and he sighs. She breathes a laugh, breath fanning out on the wind, before turning and perching herself on a bench, painted with icy swirls of frost. 

“Sasuke!” Naruto starts, and Sakura punches him in the shoulder. “ _Not so loud_! We're trying to be _covert_ , Naruto!” 

“Sorry.” He grins, abashed, and rubs the nape of his neck. “Anyways, uh,” He clears his throat, and Sakura seems to get the message, mouth sharpening into a grin and eyebrows raising. 

“ _Oh_.” She grins, and Naruto makes a sputtering sound. “Don’t mind me,” She waves daintily, as if she didn’t have the power to break bones with that hand, before turning and setting off towards Ino. 

He turns back towards Naruto.

“So,” He drawls. “What’s up with this trip?” He rubs his eye groggily. “And why’s it so early?”

Sasuke arches a brow, unimpressed. “Ayame woke me up at three in the morning to tell me this. It’s a wedding tradition.”

“You’ve been up since _three_?” He gawks, and then leans precariously forward into his personal space, squinting at him, and Sasuke has to fight the instinctual urge to step back and push him away. “Do you _ever_ sleep?”

He huffs. “If you think _I’m_ bad you should see Kakashi.”

Come to think of it, if Ayame and Kakashi were talking that meant that both of them were awake, which also means neither of them have slept for the past twenty four hours and knowing Kakashi (and citing the many, _many_ times he would see him wandering the streets at night when the compound got too big or quiet or empty) he probably hasn’t slept in _longer_ , and it makes sense considering his former status as ANBU captain, but here he demonstrates the unfaltering inability to let go of bad habits. He doesn’t know what Ayame’s excuse is. 

“Kakashi doesn’t count.” Naruto says. “I don’t think he’s human.”

Sasuke snorts. 

“Hey.” Naruto bumps his shoulder, his cloak swishing on the snow. 

“What?”

Naruto grabs his gloved hand, a flush that can’t quite be attributed to the cold rising up the back of his neck. They stand that way for a minute, cloaks mostly hiding the movement, before they separate. Ayame calls his name, and it’s time to go. 

Ayame’s smile, when he catches up, is far too coy and knowing for his liking.

The walk is mostly quiet. The air is like needles on his cheeks as they leave the city behind and embark up an old, trodden path that will take them to the temple. Black ice skids beneath his foot, and he grimaces. He still prefers this to the mosquitoes, but not by much. He closes his eyes for a moment, regulating the movement of his chakra as he moves in a style reminiscent of the chakra control techniques he learned from Orochimaru. 

“Careful.” Ayame pulls him sideways around a patch of snow, only to watch as Naruto trips over it. Beneath the thin covering of snow is a patch of ice. She sighs heavily. “I keep meaning to pave this,” She says after a moment. “But some of the land falls under a land conserve, and the people that live there,” She gestures towards the neat line of little houses back at the border of the city, “Don’t want government interference. Part of the reason why no one partakes in this tradition anymore is that it’s too dangerous to get there.”

“Too dangerous?” He repeats. 

“For civilians.” She clarifies. “It would not prove so hazardous to a native who’s made the path a few times, or for a realized Shinobi. But most of the couples who get married here are neither. The path hasn’t been cleared in a while, to my knowledge.” She pauses, her smile wistful. “The temple is beautiful, though. Worth the trip.”

Behind him, he can feel Ito’s glare boring into the back of his skull. It sets the back of his neck on fire. If the path is so dangerous, why is he coming? 

“Ah,” She grabs his arm, pulling him closer. “Ito doesn’t much like idle chit chat.”

Sasuke glances over his shoulder, just to make it known they’re talking about him.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

She grins and pulls back.

“Princess.” He snaps. “Are such displays appropriate?”

She twists back, planting a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder.

“Of course, you’re right, Councilman.” Her voice sounds perfectly remorseful, her expression appropriately contrite. “I’m terribly sorry.” 

Sasuke raises an eyebrow at her.

“I quite like irritating him.” She admits, once they've walked a little further away. “It seems your general presence provokes the same sentiment, but it’s more amusing when it’s intentional.”

He snorts. Ito wouldn’t be the first one to think that.

“I’m really not quite sure the reasoning behind his change of heart.”

“He isn’t always like this?”

“Well, in a sense.” She smiles. “He had no ill will towards me when my father held the position. I’m not sure he considered me much at all, but he was certainly more polite. Since I’ve inherited the position, it seems all that he can offer is criticism.” 

“You inherit the position here?” 

“The kage system is different, and Yukigakure holds its secrets close,” She muses. “It is understandable that you would be unaware of our system of politics. The Hokage holds all political and infrastructural control, correct?”

Sasuke nods.

“Ito is my general of war, but he also controls our Shinobi system. I have no control over that domain. The rest of my Council have sway in my decisions, but they’re ultimately up to me. I have more power in a domestic sense - I can order buildings to be constructed and legislation to be passed and new school material be introduced. Any power in the domestic sphere. But I have no say in the training that Shinobi go through or the strategic battles of a war.”

Sasuke frowns. “Can you declare war?”

Ayame sighs. “By the time the situation has escalated to that point, my declaration is simply a formality. There are routes that I can employ, should I truly want to stop a war, but I have to go through several channels. I would have to appeal to Ito’s following and his employment. It’s fortunate that this situation hasn’t spiralled to the point that I had no measures to stop it.”

Sasuke hums. “How is succession determined?”

“Hm?”

“When the Sandaime died, the Council decided on who was best to lead. If the Hokage retires, they make that decision with the Council.” The reminder of Danzo makes dread curl in his gut, inexplicably. 

“It’s dynastic, in a sense.” She replies after a moment. “The current ruler may produce a biological heir, and they will inherit the title should that ruler die, or they might assign it to a person of their choosing. If the public thinks that the leader is not serving their purpose, they may propose a new election, and the next leader will be chosen. That’s how my father came into power.”

That’s not all that different compared to the selection process of the Hokage.

“Konoha might actually be more concerned with inheritance.” She says after a moment. 

“How so?”

“You’ve never had a non-Senju affiliated Hokage for any substantial period of time. The first was Hashirama, then Tobirama, followed by Hiruzen, who was Tobirama’s student, and he appointed the rest of his students to form your Council, correct? After that, there was Minato, who was killed not long after in the Kyubei attack, before the title was handed back to Hiruzen, and now to Tsunade.”

Sasuke… hadn't considered that before. He had never cared much about the leadership in Konoha so long as it didn’t interfere with his plan to kill Itachi. 

“You know a lot about Konoha’s history.”

“I wanted to be informed for your arrival.” She explains. None of the Shinobi that were attending had thought to learn anything about Yukigakure, but Sasuke blames his personal situation on the fact that he was deliberately uninformed about the nature of his presence there. Not to mention that Konoha isn’t the most reliable source of information concerning other villages, some of their own material concerning their government isn’t correct, apparently. 

“What constitutes failure?”

Her eyes, blue or gray, snap up.

“Well, any disaster, I suppose. My father’s predecessor was responsible for a financial depression that lasted much longer than it should have. The situation would have been avoidable if he had implemented the proper procedure for economic depression. Another was voted off for interfering with conflict in the Land of Rice.”

He hums, and keeps his gaze trained on the snow. Shivers creep up his spine, but he pointedly refuses to acknowledge that. He’s grudgingly glad that Kakashi made him take the cloak this time, because it feels colder, somehow, than it was when they got to Yukigakure. 

Pine trees surround them on either side, looming down, their bark scraped off from the merciless wind. It’s at least a foot deep everywhere. The path is better defined than the rest of the ground, but that isn’t saying much, and his foot still falls at least six inches into the snow before finding solid ground, or something that resembles it.

Ayame, undeterred, smiles at the sky.

“It’s beautiful weather for this sort of thing.”

It’s below freezing and the wind is really starting to sting. Sasuke would beg to differ.

She seems to notice his glowering and laughs. “I suppose you aren’t used to these temperatures.”

He grunts, and concentrates again on his chakra. 

“This part of the forest is always cold.” She says. “The legend goes that the great dragon that lives on the tallest mountain, Qreheia, breathes freezing air down the mountain and freezes the lake.” The name is in the Northern tongue, and Sasuke isn’t sure he could mimic the sound if he tried. “It’s considered good luck to visit the temple when the lake is frozen.”

 _Frozen_?

His question must show on his face, because she smiles.

“Wait until you see! I came here with my father years ago, now. We visited during the gravity. It was quite the experience. I came again, just last Spring, with Kalani.”

Sasuke keeps his gaze trained forward, but for a moment he forgets about the cold.

The trees clear a bit ahead, but he can see them give way awhile up.

The guards in front of them pause a moment, checking the ground’s integrity, before emerging from the treeline.

Before them sits a frozen lake, so far across that the other side is nothing more than a dappled, blurry line of trees. The ice catches the glare of the sun. A bridge, made of dark stone, leads to a great monument of white, sun bleached stone. It’s tall enough that it’s staggering to look at, and he has to tilt his head back just to see the chiseled stone. A wide staircase leads to a single door. On the steps are old offerings - trinkets and stones and little white flowers.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” She smiles brightly. “Now, come on.”

The bridge is close to the ice - alarmingly so. If one of the railings were to break…. Well, he doesn’t want to test the strength of the ice.

They reach the stairs promptly, and they’re taller than Sasuke estimated them to be earlier. Each slab of rock rises almost to his knee.

“How did they build this?”

“The rock was already here.” Ayame explains. “They used it as their foundation.”

Banners flap in the wind, attached to the grand pillars holding up the roof. They’re the same style as the ones in the palace. Sakura would love this. She’s probably pissed that she’s missing her chance to get a good look.

Their footsteps echo, hollow, on the ground. Before them is the altar, a slab of decorative rock, fringed by glittering black rock. A story is carved into the walls, an open mouthed dragon perched on the tallest mountain, the moon behind its back, exhaling freezing wind down the mountainside, a goddess with eight stones in her crown, skin a tapestry of constellations. A pool of water surrounds it. Sasuke can’t even imagine how cold it must be.

Ayame settles to her knees.

“We should discuss. I did not bring you here without reason.”

Sasuke shifts onto his knees, mimicking her position. 

“As… much as it pains me to say this, the assassinations are clearly being orchestrated by someone within the palace. Clearly, someone is trying to prevent our marriage and thus start war.”

“Someone in the Council.” Sasuke says immediately. 

Ayame sighs, some of her hair falling out of its elaborate clips. “Yes, but why? Someone who could profit from the war? Villages make money from perpetuating conflict in subjugated areas, not other villages. Konoha enables the crises in the Land of Waves in order to profit from their dependence. But to ignite war with another village drains resources and amounts in a body count. Not to mention that book. Clearly the Council wants it. Kakashi already agreed to look over it.”

“Weapon dealers.” Sasuke shrugs. “War hawks.”

“Any of them could have hired those assassins,” She agrees. Sasuke thinks about how all of them have ties to the betting pools, thinks about the fighting rings, thinks about how they were all missing nin and that the Council has something to do with this, that Danzo must have something to do with this if Kakashi is so afraid of him- “But how does the Council benefit?”

“Do they make profit from war?” Sasuke pauses. “Who would take over if you died?”

Ayame frowns. “An election would be held. But that’s - if that were to happen right now, surely, there would be war, so…”

She trails off. “I’m not allowed to be too invested in the political campaigns of those attesting for the title should I die. It’s - there are always people waiting for that, you understand. People with power, and sway. “Matsuo.” She says after a moment. “He was a political opponent of my father’s. I don’t know who else aided his campaign, but I remember my father used to complain about him. I can look into that…” She trails off, staring uncertainly at the altar.

Sasuke supposes having this conversation in a temple could be considered sacrilege, of some degree. He stares at the rock slab. Back in the Uchiha Compound, they had had sites of worship, too, three specifically, but Sasuke scarcely remembers them. When offerings were left, it wasn’t nearly such a personal matter. Like the general disposition of his clan, worship was standard and business like in nature. This feels… haltingly personal. 

“Why aren’t you allowed to get involved in campaigns?”

“So I don’t taint the public perception.” She replies, smoothing out the creases in her cloak. “If I were to endorse one specific person I might sway public opinion in favor of or away from them. Campaigns are usually associated with things besides chasing my title - usually they pick a social or infrastructural issue to better sell themselves, and that they’re usually involved in before. Matuso is particularly concerned with the state of our schools, for example.” 

“Could it be Matsuo?”

“I’ve never met the man. All I have is my father’s opinion of him and a few speeches. Though, I wouldn’t put it past him to hire assassins. The bigger question is whether or not he has any affiliation with anyone in the Council.”

“See if he has connections with Orochimaru or his betting pools.” He offers. Ayame blinks, and Sasuke remains staring at the stone so he doesn’t have to look at her. 

Riku and Ryoko should be back with that information soon, in any case, so that might shed some light on the situation. 

He sighs and feels the pulse of his chara through him more strongly, fighting off the sting of the cold, and feels everything around him, the barren stretch of frozen lake, the little burning signatures just outside the limits of the premises. 

And something else.

It’s just at the edge of his consciousness. He stands up, eyes narrowed. 

It was familiar, and it was also getting closer.

He realizes a second too late just what it is. 

_Deidara_.

What the hell is he doing here?

He grabs Ayame’s hand and yanks her to her feet, running out of the building just as a gurgling creature made of white clay oozes towards them, over the stone steps. Chidori explodes through the air, the high pitched cry of birds echoing against the stone walls, channeled through his sword as he runs his sword through it. The clay monster wails and gurgles, before stitching itself back together. 

Close up isn’t going to work, then.

He summons Chidori again, but this time, uses it to shove the screaming thing back into the water, the beam of crackling electricity shoving it beneath the cracking ice. He doesn’t have time to recover before more of them are entering the monument - how many are there?

Lightning erupts around him like a cage, and shoots through them. The ones he doesn’t destabilize immediately he shoves into the water. He isn’t quite prepared for the winged monster hovering over the bridge, though. Kakashi is occupied on the other side of the bridge, on the mainland, with another of Deidara’s monstrosities, and Naruto, on the bridge, doesn’t know any lightning jutsus. 

“Get off the bridge!” He snaps, and the guards within earshot scramble to comply.

Naruto jumps, flinging Rasengan, but it slices through part of the wing, which regenerates almost immediately. Deidara is hovering over the trees, getting farther away - why the hell is he _here_? - but Sasuke doesn’t have time to even consider that. 

The clay dragon screeches.

Sasuke screeches and summons Chidori, slicing through the monster's lower half before it twists, focusing on Naruto, who still hasn’t gotten the message to get off the bridge so he can fight this thing. It flaps its wings lethargically, _playing_ with them-

It’s also probably going to _explode_ , which is a _big fucking problem_. 

It dives towards Naruto, and he barely has time to think before he’s shoving him back. He hits the railing hard, and the wood snaps under his back. He just barely has time to grab onto the monster’s claw, summoning Chidori through his hands, and the monster screeches as it falls back. He falls through open air for a moment, electricity coursing through him and rendering the monster useless, and he thinks, _water is conducive to electricity_ , before the ice cracks beneath him.

The water engulfs him, and everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was writing this I was looking at the Hokages and I was like??? Tobirama really made his students the only people in power lmao. This man. 
> 
> I had fun writing this chapter and delving into the politics a little. Everyone's figuring some things out.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. The Worst Kind of Bedside Manner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning of Orochimaru being a creep.

Sasuke wakes to both an uncomfortably heavy weight on his chest, and the feverish heat that typically comes with sickness. Forcing his eyes open is another matter entirely, and when he’s conscious enough to properly interpret what exactly he’s seeing, he notices Ryoko’s pale head hovering just over his face, her form coiled atop his chest, solidifying her as the thing preventing him from properly breathing. Then, there’s the positively _ridiculous_ amount of blankets piled on top of him, some of which might also be contributors to his current inability to properly breathe, all _very_ uncomfortably warm. 

He remembers-

He remembers Deidara attacking, and he remembers pushing Naruto out of the way of his clay dragon and dragging the both of them into the water so he could use the water as a conduit-

He sits up quickly, startling the person sitting in the chair next to him.

“Sasuke!” Naruto cries, rushing forward to wrap his arms around his shoulders, much to Sasuke’s disdain. He’s still very much uncomfortably warm and stiff. “Guys! He’s awake!”

Naruto, as the only person inside the bland room, takes his opportunity to grab Sasuke by the shoulders and shake him a little.

“ _Why did you do that you idiot_?!”

“The dragon was going to kill you.” Sasuke informs him. “Moron.”

“Yes,” Naruto stresses. “But it was also going to kill _you _.”__

__Sasuke has the audacity to roll his eyes. “I had a better chance of killing it then you did. It was going to push you into the water. Chidori was capable of destroying it, and the water acted as a conduit.”_ _

__Naruto looks torn between hugging him again and shaking him more, but he’s saved from having to make the decision as the rest of them come flooding into a room much too small to accommodate all of them. Juugo is currently the only thing preventing him from a swift death via strangulation in the form of Karin, and is attempting to keep Suigetsu at bay, but his efforts are mostly futile since he has the ability to turn into water._ _

__Ryoko, beneath the covers at his side, wraps her tail around his wrist._ _

__“What happened?” He asks no one in particular._ _

__“After you fell into the water, your Chidori was essentially magnified. You destroyed the dragon and burned yourself a bit before we fished you back out.” Kakashi brushes the curtain aside._ _

__“And Deidara?”_ _

__“Gone.” Kakashi supplies. “He only stopped to drop a few of his toys on us before he disappeared again. Clearly he wasn’t trying in earnest to kill us. It might’ve been because we outnumbered him, but I think we can safely interpret that as a warning.”_ _

__Great. Now they have the _Akatsuki_ to deal with. _ _

__Kakashi’s visible eye slides to Naruto, who’s glaring at him with a ferocity that makes Sasuke think they were either in the midst of having an argument when he woke up or they never resolved one._ _

__“... which means that Naruto is likely in danger here.”_ _

__“I’m not going back!” Naruto declares hotly, rearing back. Sakura sighs quietly behind him, hair tied back, arms crossed. “I’m just supposed to leave you all here to fight these guys? You don’t even know that they were after me!”_ _

__No, there’s no guarantee, but Sasuke is willing to bet that their attack lied more on the basis that the both of them and the Princess happened to occupy the same general area during a time where they were isolated from the rest of the city. He’s not sure their proximity to the city, or lack thereof, was truly a contributing factor because Deidara, even more so than the rest of the Akatsuki, has demonstrated the unfortunate propensity for dropping bombs on civilized territories. Orochimaru, for whatever reason, has a strange fixation with Deidara that almost rivals his fixation with Itachi - while the former is based entirely on his desire for the Sharingan, he seems to find Deidara’s ability genuinely interesting._ _

__The only time he actually ever saw Deidara was once in the rings. Typically, he wasn’t allowed to go on merit of his personality alone. If he saw someone he thought was particularly intriguing, Sasuke has no doubt that he would have inserted himself into the fight with no forethought given to his actions. Despite this, Sasuke likes to think he has a fairly good grasp on his abilities. Orochimaru was never anything but meticulous. Troves full of detailed notes sat untouched in his studies, filled to the brim with sensitive information concerning the Akatsuki. Sasuke is likely the only person who has ever seen it, and if he has his way, will be the only person to ever see it. Orochimaru certainly hadn't wanted him to go pawing through his files, but there was little that could be done to stop him once he set his mind to something._ _

__Former terrorist bomber Deidara, with a capricious personality to match his unique, inherently destructive ability._ _

__“They’re after both of us.” Is what he says. A number of eyes turn his way._ _

___Why_ , though, evades him. He understands the consequences for the nations should he die - war. He’s not entirely sure how the Akatsuki benefit from this. He knows their mission is ‘true peace’, or whatever their interpretation of that means. He’s fairly sure war isn’t part of that definition in any way shape or form, though. _ _

__“ _Ryoko, where’s Riku_?” He asks, pointedly ignoring the discussion going on around him. They should have brought the documents back, if she’s here. _ _

__“ _We brought what you wanted._ ” She assures, slipping back into their shared language. Sasuke isn’t fluent, but he shares some intrinsic understanding of it - it’s part of the specifications of a contract. At his side, Naruto turns around to squint at them._ _

__“Hey,” He frowns. “What’re you two talking about?”_ _

__Sasuke continues to both ignore him and speak in snake-tongue. “ _And Riku_?”_ _

__“ _Your pet bird is fine. The nurse was… insistent that only one person be in the room. No animals. No summons._ ”_ _

__He arches a brow. “ _But they let you stay_?”_ _

__“As if they could make me leave.” Sasuke’s sure that means she bit anyone that tried to move her, which he finds vaguely amusing._ _

__Sakura interrupts whatever half baked argument is going on around them, stepping forward to remind everyone that she’s Tsunade’s student and she has the temper to prove it. She commands silence in the room as she moves to the front of the bed._ _

__“First of all, you stop moving so much. You were hypothermic when we got you out of the water and you almost died so _stop moving around so much_ ,” Sasuke is fairly sure that he couldn’t move even if he tried, given how tightly the blankets are packed at his sides. Ryoko hisses something that could be a laugh. “Second, there are too many people in here. If that nurse notices you’re crowding him again she’s gonna blow a fuse.”_ _

__Naruto blanches. “Scary!”_ _

__He glances down at Ryoko. “ _Nurse_?”_ _

__“She is very strict about upholding the rules,” Ryoko says. “ _She did not see me_.”_ _

__He strokes a hand over her head and watches them trickle out of the room while Sakura checks him over._ _

__“ _Don’t_ do that again,” She chides. “Next time you might not be so lucky.”_ _

__Sasuke hums. He killed the monster, which was really the only thing he had been intending to do._ _

__“I’ll come back in another thirty minutes to make sure everything is working,” She says around a sigh and drops his hand, before kicking the box at the floor. “I’ll let your hawk in if you don’t tell anyone.”_ _

__He nods appreciatively, and Ryoko makes a hissing noise that has Sakura making a face. “...right.” Is all she says._ _

__“And you - I don’t want to see you in the hospital again, got it?” She doesn’t wait long for an answer, before squeezing his shoulder and heading out the door. A moment later, Riku soars through, perched on the railing when he finds a conspicuous lack of an arm guard._ _

__“Look at you, back in the infirmary.” He says coolly._ _

__“ _Do not let him deceive you_ ,” Ryoko stares smugly at him. “_He was a nervous wreck when they wouldn’t let him in the room_.”

Sasuke snorts. Riku ruffles his feathers indignantly.

“Hey? What lies are you feeding him, snake?”

Sasuke runs a hand through his feathers absentmindedly before turning the box and hefting it over the railing and onto his lap. 

“You got all of it?”

“Everything that I could find.” She confirms. He leafs through the files. There are more of them than he was expecting. 

Well, he thinks, yanking one of the documents free, at least he has all the information on the Akatsuki that he could need now. Everything pertaining to the betting pools - including the Akatsuki - could be found within this box, and Sasuke was not too eager to look through it. He was sure he had a document of his own buried somewhere in here, and he hopes distinctly that he doesn’t find it. If he does, he resolves to burn it.

Ryoko sits at his side quietly and Riku preens while he sorts through the disorganized mess. The blame largely lies with Orochimaru’s organization system, mercurial at the best of times and adhering to a system of criteria he can’t pinpoint. He’s halfway through by the time he reaches the file detailing Orochimaru’s notes on Deidara. He staggered the files so that they would be harder to find should anyone be looking for them, much to Sasuke’s annoyance, but that was besides the point. 

Out of all of them, Pein’s is the thinnest. The most he has is a hastily taken picture exposing the iridescent purple of the rinnegan. Orochimaru isn’t quite sure how it works, considering his attempts to combine what Uchiha and Senju DNA he has have been largely ineffective. He made the mistake of walking into one of the labs when he was fourteen and was so disturbed by the vials of DNA labelled Uchiha that he had almost murdered Orochimaru right then and there, if only to get out of there. It isn’t a question of how he got it - there was certainly enough organic material floating around after the massacre (hell, his own _house_ was never really properly cleaned). The fact that Konoha had allowed him to take that genetic material hadn't really clicked until then. He’s just relieved he never found any Sharingan in those labs of his, whether stolen or artificial.

Something about that irks him. 

He combs through the files again for the record of Orochimaru’s test experiments concerning the Senju and Uchiha DNA. He had been trying to achieve either the Sharingan, the wood release technique, or the rinnegan, which was poorly understood enough that any attempts to recreate it were experimental at best. He remembers seeing this before - the evidence of escape found in a room that was never properly restored. Glass test tubes full of viscous fluid, most of which were smashed open crudely. It was always better to be wary when entering rooms like that, especially in that particular wing, because that was where one of Orochimaru’s snake monstrosities had smashed through half the wing and had immediately met its demise. Kabuto had told him, quite eagerly, that he could still see the bones if he wanted to. 

He had, very emphatically, _not_ wanted to do that even the slightest bit.

But that was where that particular line of experimentation had led, Kabuto said. Most of what Kabuto said was intended to rile him up, because Kabuto despised that Orochimaru took more interest in him. He was probably trying to upset him by alluding to the massacre, but it was mostly eclipsed by its own amount of discomfort it brought him. 

All of the test subjects died, apparently, but one of them _did_ go missing, and…

Doesn’t Kakashi have a friend that uses wood release?

Sasuke snaps the folder shut, startling Ryoko slightly.

“Find something?” She blinks lazily.

“What is it, kid?”

“I think we might be able to find our link.”

Sasuke pushes the covers off himself and slides onto the floor. Ryoko wraps around his arm while Riku hovers behind them. Sasuke is fairly sure that hawks aren’t allowed in the palace, and he’s sure Riku is aware as well.

“Strawberry’ll kick your ass if she catches you out of bed.” Riku remarks. Sasuke is well aware. 

“Then we just won’t get caught.” He declares, and slips out the door. 

Kakashi is sitting in the courtyard when he finds him. He turns into the narrow walking space, shovelled recently but still sprinkled with a thin layer of snow, and comes up behind him.

Kakashi startles, then, and whirls around, one hand going for a weapon until he realizes who it is, smoothing his posture back into relative ease, but his back is still a stiff, unyielding line.

“I didn’t see you there,” He eyes him. “I must be getting old.”

Not really. If he ever wanted to get anywhere without Orochimaru knowing then he had to get _really_ good at sneaking around. 

He makes a noncommittal noise and sits down next to him.

Kakashi arches an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t I just visit my favorite teacher?” He mocks.

Kakashi huffs. “Are you here to ask me questions or just antagonize me?”

“I can multitask.” Sasuke replies flatly, and hands him the file. Kakashi looks between him and the file suspiciously. “This isn’t something that’s going to get me fired is it?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes, and shoves it into his hands. “No.”

Kakashi is quick to look it over, and Sasuke waits patiently, watching as Riku chases a smaller bird around the fountain. 

“There’s a jounin that specializes in wood release, isn’t there?”

“There is.” He replies lightly. 

“He was the one from Orochimaru’s labs, wasn’t he?” 

Kakashi eyes the file distastefully. “Did you steal this from the tunnels?”

Irrelevant. “I needed any files relating to the betting pools. A few of his test subjects were dropped in there and this happened to come up.”

He sighs. “Yes, but you already guessed that much. Why are you asking me?”

“He had to have gotten out of the labs somehow, didn’t he?” Sasuke prompts. 

Kakashi hums, idle. “What makes you say that?”

Stalling, Kakashi doesn’t need him to explain. For once, he’ll acquiesce. 

“Orochimaru knows everything that happens in his tunnels. If he had wanted to stop him from escaping, he would have. I doubt he had any intention of giving him to Konoha, so he likely expected him to die.”

“But what if he _did_ escape on his own?”

“Impossible.” Sasuke cuts through his bullshit promptly. “That would’ve warranted different documentation. He’d have written it down. He has complete control over everything that happens in his labs.”

“Are you sure? You _were_ able to kill him.”

“I don’t _belong_ to him.” Sasuke snaps, and the silence is a little _too_ loud and a _lot_ personal. “Your link.” He says, voice flat again. “Would it happen to be-”

Kakashi grabs his shoulder. “Yes. Don’t let anyone hear you talking about him.” 

Sasuke grimaces. “He’s important, then.”

Kakashi makes a strangled sort of sound. “You could say that. He’s also very… persuasive.”

“How do you know him?”

Kakashi is very pointedly not looking at him, and after another moment, it clicks.

“Is he the one who-”

“ _Yes_ ,” Kakashi says, visibly distressed. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

Sasuke is struck with the strangest urge to laugh. “ _He_ -”

“I can’t believe my own students would make fun of me like this,” He laments. “Where did I go wrong?”

Sasuke snorts. He should probably get moving before Sakura catches him, and he needs to look back through those files. Maybe there’s evidence of communication with Danzo in them. Speaking of which, he needs to look into Danzo’s position more. Kakashi had clearly labelled him as someone to watch, which means he’s likely tangled in this mess somewhere. 

Kakashi must see it on his face. “Leaving already?”

“The pink haired one is hunting him.” Ryoko supplies unhelpfully. Sasuke pins her in a flat glare. 

Kakashi arches an eyebrow. “You ran away from Sakura?”

“Very quickly.” Riku adds. “That’s the _only_ way to run from her.”

Ryoko laughs, a throaty sort of sound. “Bold words for one who won’t get within thirty feet of her.”

Riku bristles, ready to start a fight, and Sasuke is quick to intervene. 

“We’re going now,” He says, and disappears.

Ayame’s room is extravagantly decorated, compared to the rest of the castle, and is perhaps the only place he won’t be bothered by anyone. Ayame, reclined on the couch, stares up at the ceiling as he sorts quietly through his files. Riku has since disappeared, which Ryoko claimed was due to his fear of Sakura, but Ryoko stays curled around his arm. 

He glances at the fireplace. Above it, in front of the family crest painted on the wall, is mounted a sword. The room is actually full of them. A few are displayed on the other walls, one locked in a case. 

Ayame notices him staring and brightens immediately.

“Are you looking at the swords?” She asks, rolling over and pushing herself up. “The one above the fireplace is a Tsurugi sword. A family heirloom.”

Sasuke’s mother had a collection of swords, he remembers. She had never let him use them, said that he was too young and that she would teach him the finer points of kenjutsu when he was older, too paranoid to let her five year old handle a sword. Itachi had, of course, but he had never taken to it like their mother had, proficient as she was in it, regaled as a prodigy among her clan.

“My family was… known for their ability to handle weapons.” She gestures sheepishly at her vast collection of weaponry. “But swords especially.”

Ayame’s family hadn't been particularly notable before her father’s ascension to the throne, but if he had enough social standing to be elected, Sasuke has to assume that she still probably came from nobility.

“Noble clan?” He asks, and stares down at this file in particular. Danzo was appointed directly to the council position by his teacher, Tobirama, just like he appointed the rest of his team to the council and made Hiruzen the Sandaime. He has a certain level of control over the Hokage, but the influence of the Council is steadily declining. Tsunade isn’t one to be ordered around by anyone, much less these three antiques, who he’s liking less and less as he reads more about them. He realizes, belatedly, that they’re also the reason that Naruto was ostracized as a child just as much as the Sandaime was to blame, and that they’re the reason that he grew up in the house his parents were murdered in. 

_Don’t you think it’s strange_ , Orochimaru had said once, hot breath at the shell of his ear in a way that never failed to make him uncomfortable, _that Itachi was never caught_? 

“More in spirit than technicality.” She smiles ruefully. “Ironically enough, the fellow nobility never liked us much. I suppose it’s because of the purpose my family played in the civil war - we were essentially neutral units used for assassination. Our kekkei genkai does make that bit easy. Your clan was a little like that too, yes?”

He nods. All clans were like that, more or less, during the Warring States Period. The Uchiha were just one of the more famous ones, for their feud with the Senju clan.

He circles a line of text and moves on to the next document, Ryoko peering into the box, venomous green eyes locking onto the file his hand rests on. 

“ _That one_.”

“ _What about this one_?”

He opens it and scans through its contents, Sharingan activated. He doesn’t see anything at first, before he finds a picture of a boy - probably thirteen or fourteen - clipped to the corner. Brown hair, dark, unfeeling eyes. The boy with the Senju cells. Below that, a word he isn’t familiar with: ROOT. 

Ayame looks on curiously. “You speak the same language as your snakes?”

“Yes,” He replies, marking it down. Something about it seems strange to him.

“Did you have to learn it?”

Ryoko bares her teeth in what could be interpreted as a smile and would definitely make a lesser person flinch, but Ayame’s curiosity is undeterred. “When a covenant is signed, our souls become somewhat… intertwined. Our knowledge is shared. That is how I may speak your language, Princess.”

“So do you know all of their knowledge?” She asks him.

“My vocabulary is limited.” He offers. Ryoko flicks her tail, coy. “ _That’s one way of putting it_.” 

“I’ve never had summons.” She confesses. “I wouldn’t know how to go about getting a contract to begin with, but I’m afraid I’m not compatible with very many types of summons, and… it would be looked down upon here, I’m afraid.”

“For what reason?”

“Ah, well… the main reason, I suppose, is that I’m meant to be a… nonthreatening isn’t quite the right word… I am considered… anodyne, essentially. Inoffensive and a figure of domestic authority rather than military authority. Some might take it as a… tip in balance of power, or something equally as trite. If nothing else, Ito would use it as ammunition, and I think that would be the last thing I need at the moment.” 

“What’s Ito’s problem with you?”

To him, he seems resentful of Ayame’s position. If his attitude change only came after she inherited the title then his suspicions are all but confirmed. He’s not sure if that petty hatred is deep enough to justify _assassination_. Then again, Ito is definitely the type to kill someone over power. The lust for power is something people will sacrifice anything for, he would know.

“I don’t know. I - Ito had significant social standing, before my father was elected. I think it was the general consensus that he would be appointed the title, and yet, he wasn’t. My father won the vote and he was admitted.”

“Would he be willing to kill you?”

Ayame blanches. “I’m not certain he would _have_ to. At this rate, we might still be at war. The constant attempts on our lives aren’t particularly beneficial to international relations, I’m afraid. If they could kill you, I’d most certainly be dethroned.”

“At which point Ito would assume your position.”

“Well, he would still have to get the vote but,” She sighs. “He’s associated with too many campaigns. He would most certainly get the title.”

Sasuke nods absentmindedly, and then looks back at the swords. He’s itching for practice.

“Can you wield a sword?”

“I _can_.” She confirms. “Not as well as I like, though. Ito maintains that it’s ‘unbecoming’.”

Sasuke crinkles his nose. “On what basis?”

“The basis that it’s both unladylike and undignified.” She snorts, which is not a sound that Sasuke thought she was able of producing, and reaches to take the sword from its mantle. “Only barbarians use swords, apparently.”

Sasuke glances down to his own Chokuto, and grins.

“You want to practice, then?”

“It can’t be in the palace. Ito has eyes everywhere.”

“Then outside.”

Ayame’s mouth quirks into a smile. “I think that would make him furious,” She starts, positively delighted. “What are you waiting for, then?”

The tundra just North of the hatchery is barren and open, devoid of anything to hide behind should he need to. He thought he shook his dependence on those things under Orochimaru, but it seems he will forever loathe fighting in open spaces like these. 

Ayame shifts, much more comfortable in the snow, and adjusts her grip. “It’s been awhile since I’ve held one.” She confesses. Sasuke nods, modifying his own, and holds his grounds. 

The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He stiffens suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. He falls back on his learned chakra technique, spreading himself thin as he waits for something to flicker on the barren plane of ice-

And something _moves_ with enough speed to counter his own. He just barely raises his Chokuto in time to deflect what would be a killing blow, and the figure looms over him, two poisonous green eyes swimming in blood red sclera boring into him.

 _Kakuzu_.

Fuck. It looks like Deidara brought some friends. 

Black threads spill from his back and form the four masked chakra creatures, cordoning both him _and_ Ayame in, and this is going to be a problem.

He remembers Orochimaru’s notes, though. He had been _quite_ impressed with Kakuzu’s immortality and had gone into great detail the methods of said immortality. All Sasuke needs to do is break the masks. Then he can incinerate the bastard. 

A plume of fire goes arcing over his head. He slams his palms on the ground and summons a thick barrier of fire around them.

“I can do Suiton!” Ayame yells as the threads recombine and go swinging around, slamming into the earth and cracking it.

“Aim for the fire mask then!” He barks. He can’t keep them all in his line of vision. As he is right now, he’s at a grave disadvantage. There’s nothing to hide behind here, so the chakra monsters have free range. A wind attack soars over his shoulder and he exhales an impressive plume of fire back towards it. He doesn’t wait to see whether it connected because Kakuzu is behind him now, and the threads are flying straight at his chest - and if it connects he has no doubt that it would punch through his ribs and wrap around his heart. 

He ducks back and the threads pummel into the ground. He whips his Chokuto up, intending the drive the blade straight up into his jaw, when he notices another coming from his leg. He leaps back, a full body Chidori surrounding him like a cage, severing the threads before they can reach him. 

Water surges past him and hits the fire mask with a sizzling _hiss_ and an eruption of steam that leaves his Sharingan functionally useless until it passes, so he has to rely on chakra signatures. He really hopes the one behind him is Ayame and not the water mask because that would make for a truly unpleasant surprise. 

Something flickers in front of him and he drives his sword through layers of muscle and then bone, with a sickening crunch. That’s Kakuzu’s actual body, then, and stabbing him isn’t doing anyone any good so he immediately yanks his sword free and jumps back, grabbing Ayame and ducking between the fire and water masks to put some space between them. For good measure, he aims a Chidori as the water mask leaps forward. He crashes back into the snow, landing hard on his shoulder, but the mask splits cleanly in two and then _shatters_. 

Ayame quickly hauls him to his feet as the fire monster pursues. It seems putting space between them didn’t help that much.

A great crest of water rises from the snow and hurtles towards it, but it swerves just in time and Sasuke grabs her by she shoulders, hauling her back as it spits another plume of fire over their heads. 

She calls forth another wave of water and, other than that seems to be handling herself fairly well, so he leaves her to take care of that one while he takes the other two. 

A blade of wind whirls past him, and he just barely evades being bisected. He needs to get close to Kakuzu. He’s willing to bet taijutsu is his weakest point. 

He imbues his Chokuto with crackling lightning as he cleaves the mask in two, and is hit from behind. If his arm wasn’t broken before it _definitely_ is now, and he chokes back the sharp gasp of pain bubbling up in his throat long enough to realize that he’s at a disadvantage right now. Kakuzu and his monster are closing in, the two masks are repairing themselves. 

He had hoped he wouldn’t have to resort to using the snakes, but he definitely needs the distraction. With his good hand, he summons Manda. His form is more than large enough to conceal him and provide the distraction, no matter how grudgingly he comes. He sinks into the earth, keeping careful track of where the chakra signatures are above ground and leaving Manda to his own devices for the moment. He can handle Kakuzu for the time being. 

He waits for the mask above him to be in position, and feels it when Manda moves, enormous tail smashing into whatever unlucky target has to be beneath it, positioning himself beneath the chakra signature, and erupting from the earth, lightning coursing down his good arm and into his sword with the shriek of birds. The sword cleaves through the mask and Manda, with a loud, creaking hiss, smashes the rest of it to pieces beneath his tail, even as the threads reattach and fasten around his tail. He pulls, pulling Kakuzu with him and into the air, and it isn’t until now that Sasuke notices the tiny cuts and abrasions peppering his torso, where the cloak was ripped away.

Not wanting to linger, he says sharply to Manda, “ _Keep Kakuzu occupied_ ,” And flings himself towards the fire mask. Its grotesque claw, extended towards Ayame, long claws going for her throat. He arcs his Chokuto down, and the creature backs away, lunging inside its reach at him, where he then sweeps the sword down and up, crackling with lightning, and Ayame sends a well aimed tsunami crashing down on top of it, the threads of its spine coming undone. For extra measure he severs them further with the Chidori, and darts back down to Kakuzu.

Kakuzu lunges for his throat, threads aiming for him, and the water mask is almost completely assembled, its needle-like water projections beginning to form, aimed for Manda’s eyes. 

While Manda abandons Kakuzu in interest of smashing the water mask to pieces against Sasuke’s orders, he doesn’t have the time to argue with Manda’s insubordination.

Only because of the Sharingan does Sasuke catch how fast Kakuzu darts forward into his space, arm swinging towards him in a way he knows will punch through muscle and bone if it hits.

His Chokuto bounces off him, but it diverts the attack, and Sasuke aims a great fireball at him. Manda, apparently done pummeling the water mask for good now, appears again to lunge at Kakuzu’s threads with his great teeth.

“ _Imputent human_ ,” Manda snarls, shaking him like a chew toy. The lightning mask is back up, and sparks shower down before one bites at his side. His muscles spasm for a minute before he ducks under it. Threads wrap around his broken arm and creep up his shoulder, and he gasps in pain. The threads get to his face, to his throat, choking off his air supply, and Chidori explodes off him, an instinctive reaction. The threads burn off. Sasuke takes a moment to catch his breath, chakra exhaustion catching up to him.

He lashes out, reaching the mask, fingernails scraping against wood, and Chidori, a weaker version, lances through it again. He slices through the rest of its shadowy body with his sword and stumbles back to Kakuzu, who Manda has restrained. 

“ _Boy_ ,” The snake snaps. “ _You cannot maintain this for long_.” 

Sasuke inhales and breathes a long stream of flame directly at him, and sustains it for as long as skin takes to melt and bone to charr. He keeps burning until Kakuzu’s entire chakra network is reduced to nothing but ash and his throat stings and his lungs hurt, and everything aches with the heavy pulse of chakra exhaustion. Manda slips away somewhere between them, and Sasuke sinks to his knees, catching his breath and looking out at the carnage. 

Ayame is quick to kneel next to him even as he lays back down, the numbing chill of the cold blissful. The entire tundra is scattered with burn and scorch marks, the ground caved out in the place he went underground and where Manda smashed it open. 

“Your arm-” She starts, uncertain hands fumbling, and he lets his eyes slip shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight scenes are not my forte so I struggled a little bit with this lol, so I apologize if its difficult to understand, and if you'd like me to I'll try to clarify as best I can. The snakes are finally here! There's an explanation for why he doesn't use them as much outside of just generally not liking them which will be explored next chapter. 
> 
> I can't tell you how many times I misspelled Kakuzu as 'kazuku'. He's literally nightmare fuel and an abomination against nature but I kinda like the whole weird ass aesthetic he's got going on. The eyes confuse me but what about him doesn't. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. The Gang Uncovers An International Conspiracy

Sasuke wakes up in the hospital for the second time in as many days. The sharp, uncomfortable tingling of chakra exhaustion flickers through his body like static, like a misplaced Chidori. It takes a few seconds to open his eyes, and when he does, longer to sit up. When he leans on his arm, he remembers a second too late that Kakuzu snapped it like a twig, but graciously finds that while it’s still locked in a sling, Sakura had obviously mended the break to the point of full autonomy. 

At his side, Ryoko pokes her head off of the plastic seat of the chair. She blinks lazily, nictitating membrane sliding across the glassy, bottle-green of her eyes. She flicks her tail, pleased.

“ _Finally awake?_ ”

He scrubs a hand over his face, trying to rub away the last fragments of sleep. He feels vaguely grimy, as one tended to feel after spending enough time in a hospital. His veins roar with the dull ache of chakra exhaustion, but he can feel it building back up steadily. 

He’s lucky Sakura decided against murdering himself in his sleep.

“How long was I out?”

“ _Eleven hours._ ”

Well, shit.

He throws the papery covers off and slides off the bed, one hand braced on the railing as Ryoko hisses a warning.

“Where is everyone?”

“ _Just outside. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them sooner. They’ve been arguing for hours now._ ”

“About what?”

“ _Kakashi wants to return the Jinchuuriki back to Konoha._ ”

Yes, he supposes that would be grounds for an argument, considering Naruto’s general disposition and personality. If he strains, he can certainly hear the muffled undercurrent of conversation, or something slightly less civilized than that, Naruto’s voice among one of the louder ones. He can’t imagine Naruto would ever willingly go back to Konoha, not with him here and at least one more Akatsuki member running around unaccounted for. It’s probably for the best, though. It might lead them away from Yukigakure and it was also undoubtedly safer if the targets of the terrorist organization weren’t all clumped together in the same room.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, effectively cutting off whatever argument they’re having prematurely. They’re standing, none too subtly, in the middle of the hallway. He has no doubt that they’re disturbing the rest of the med wing.

“Sasuke!” Naruto exclaims, brightening marginally. At the same time, Sakura exclaims: “ _You!_ ”

“ _Oh,_ ” Ryoko chuckles, a low pur, tail wrapped loosely around his wrist, her head nestled into the crook of his neck. “ _She’s angry with you._ ” 

Naruto snickers as Sakura chews him out about being a terrible patient and having no concern over his health whatsoever, and Sasuke glowers. Ryoko laughs, a trilling noise, and Sakura sighs. 

“You’re unbelievable.” She gorans, and loops their arms together so she can drag him back into the conversation. 

Naruto takes this as permission to bring the issue back up. 

“Sasuke! Tell them they don’t have to send me back! They want to send me back to Konoha just because the stupid Akatsuki are here- _oof_ -” Sakura wraps him in a headlock. “It’s for your own safety! We’re trying to prevent the Akatsuki from getting their hands on the tailed beasts, Naruto!”

“I can’t take care of myself!” He protests, mouth creasing into a frown as he pulls out of her grip, and his eyes flick to Sasuke, who realizes what this is about in one moment. Naruto is impulsive at the best of times, combative and hot headed and Sasuke has no doubt that he wants to fight the Akatsuki, because that’s just how Naruto is, but if there’s one thing Naruto _isn’t_ , it’s selfish. Sasuke would like to think that Naruto wouldn’t put the safety of the entire continent on the line over something as ridiculous as _he wants to fight_. 

Sasuke sighs. “And so can I.”

Naruto winces, caught. Sakura glances between them.

“Are you sure-”

“Yes I’m sure. I beat Kakuzu didn’t I?” 

“And almost killed yourself in the process…” Sakura grumbles quietly. He ignores her.

“It’s only for two more weeks. You’ll survive.”

He knows that’s not really the main issue here, but chooses to ignore that, too. Just two more weeks and he’ll be married.

“Actually,” Kakashi interects, clearing his throat delicately. “There’s been some change of plans with the marriage.”

Sasuke stares, flat.

“We’ve actually moved it. It’s two days from now.”

Naruto sputters. Sakura makes a high pitched sound. He stares, and Ryoko laughs at his suffering. 

“ _Did you know this too?_ ” He snaps.

“ _Perhaps._ ” Comes her coy response, and she refuses to elaborate. 

“Two days?!” Naruto exclaims. “But - if it’s only two days then why can’t I just stay?” 

Kakashi sighs, and it feels heavy with exasperation. “ _Because_ , Naruto, that’s two full days where you aren’t being pursued by the Akatsuki.”

“It isn’t that long!”

“ _Naruto._ ” Sasuke cuts them off. He stares, imploring, expectant, and Naruto slumps forward, his hand at the nape of his neck. He looks at least slightly abashed. 

“ _Fine,_ ” He eventually concedes, grudging and unhappy, and crosses his arms. Sasuke doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kakashi look so relieved. Sakura sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll send you pictures.” 

Sasuke bristles. 

“Okay,” Kakashi says, before more fighting can break out. “Sasuke, now that you’re up, we have to go and talk to Ayame about the wedding. If that’s alright with you, Sakura.”

She looks like it’s supremely _not alright with it_ but has no choice but to comply.

“... fine,” She says tightly. “But you need to _take it easy_. Your chakra network was almost depleted when we found you. You’ve recovered well enough,” She glances at Ryoko, and he stiffens. “But don’t push your luck. Chakra exhaustion is no joke. You think anything’s wrong you come find me, got it?” She jabs a belligerent finger into his chest, and he nods slowly. “Good.” She sniffs, and then herds Naruto down the hallway. “You two have fun with the wedding preparations!”

Sasuke can’t tell if she means that genuinely or if she’s mocking him.

“She and Ino helped to arrange some of the flowers while you were asleep.” Kakashi tells him as he steers him down the hallway. “They’re already getting everything ready in the courtyard.”

Sasuke grunts. He couldn’t care less about the technical aspects of wedding planning. 

(He remembers, distantly, sitting on Itachi’s lap in a mostly empty audience, reaching for an intricately arranged bouquet of flowers, tied together at the stems by a white lace ribbon, and how Itachi had smiled and gently explained the significance of each color, even if the cobwebs of memory smear their meaning).

He shoves that particular memory down as far as it will go and directs his attention back to Ryoko.

“ _What did you do?_ ”

“ _Your friend is not familiar with summons, is she?_ ”

“ _No, she isn’t._ ” He hisses. “ _So why did she look at you like that? Did Manda interfere?_ ”

Kakashi glances between them. Snake tongue is a harsh sound, generally incompatible with human mouths and vocal cords, impossible to easily replicate. His isn’t perfect - he needs more practice. He had spent plenty of time in Ryuchi cave with them during his time under Orochimaru’s teaching, learning the finer nuances to their language. He can imagine it sounds quite jarring to an outsider.

“ _Manda despises you._ ” Ryoko tells him matter of factly. “ _He would sooner watch you bleed to death than administer any aid._ ”

“ _Clearly someone did._ " 

“ _The snakes wish to usurp Manda from his position of power._ ”

“ _So healing me was an act of defiance?_ ”

She seems to smile, long, curved fangs bared. “ _In a manner of speaking. Manda would not have prevented us from doing so, he simply would not have contributed. He has no fondness for you. However your contract with us holds more importance. He would not dare harm you._ ”

Sasuke scoffs. “ _He hasn’t let me enter the cave in months._ ”

She laughs again, delighted. “ _Yes. He was quite angry with you for killing the Sannin._ ”

Sasuke grimaces at the mention of Orochimaru. “Is he willing to let me in now?”

“ _You will have to ask him that yourself, but I would wager that the answer is still ‘no’. However, should you change the specifications of the summoning contract, then perhaps this would change._ ”

“ _Is that possible for me to do? My contract is inherited from Orochimaru._ ”

“ _The snakes of Ryuchi cave value strength.” Her tongue hisses through her teeth. “When you killed Orochimaru, he lost our favor. Manda is… sentimental, in this way. He does not believe you have any propensity for leadership. He considers you unworthy._ ”

“ _And?_ ”

“ _Every contract is malleable. You only need commune with your summons._ ”

He raises an eyebrow. “ _And who would lead in his stead?_ ”

“ _Whoever kills him._ ” 

“ _You think you could?_ ”

She laughs. “ _Not so soon. In time, perhaps. I am too young and small. Manda is an ancient creature, born beneath the crust of the earth. Ryuchi cave is a vast system of tunnels that his den mother carved out. When he killed her he became the leader. However, if I stay with you I will become bigger._ ”

“ _How?_ ”

“ _Our chakra complements each other. In time, I will become big enough to kill Manda._ ”

He glances at her, curved up his arm, around his shoulders, big enough for her to stretch all the way down to his thigh in this position. She’s certainly gotten heavier, but he hadn't paid it any heed. He forgets that Ryoko is young. 

Kakashi stares blandly at him. “What a riveting conversation.” 

Ryoko extends her head to him, and Kakashi rubs a gloved hand over her head. She curls into his touch.

“ _I like this one._ ” She declares.

“ _...why?_ ”

Kakashi pouts. “Are you two talking about me?”

“Yes.”

“You are talented with animals.” She says. “You have dog summons, yes?” 

Kakashi nods, and then they’re at the room. Ayame is waiting for them inside, perched carefully on a small mountain of pillows while servants dart nervously around the room. At the back of the room is an ornate line of dresses and a weaver, putting the finishing touches on something concealed beneath a layer of plastic so that he can’t properly see anything but the glint of a needle pulling navy blue thread into the air, and the rhythmic motion of pulling it back down again. 

“Please, don’t mind them.” She says. “They’ve had to double up on their production rates. I’m lucky my clothes had been tailored beforehand. Yours are almost done as well.” She gestures to the woman in the back, unperturbed by her audience as she goes about her craft. “You aren’t supposed to see your clothes until the day of the wedding, or my clothes, for that matter, but her workshop was one of the ones destroyed by assassin number thirteen, I think it was.” Her voice is as dry as the tundra. Would be assassin number thirteen had the unique and awful ability to spit venom, which had _not_ been something that Sasuke was mentally or physically prepared to be dealing with. Unfortunately, corrosive acid happens to dissolve wood and mortar just as well as skin and bone, and several rooms had met their untimely end by viscous purple acid. 

“I apologize for the… _many_ turns this marriage has taken.” The edge of her lip quirks up. “I promise that not all marriages in my country are so… lively.”

He scoffs. That’s one way of putting it. 

“ _You should be honored._ ” Ryoko teases.

“I just wanted to touch bases with the both of you. Sasuke, Kakashi, you both understand your roles?”

They nod. She sighs. 

“It’s unfortunate how soon we’ve had to move the wedding, but we’ve been attacked by two Akatsuki members already and I have no doubt that the longer we wait the greater that number will grow to be. I’m not sure I’ll survive another encounter.” He can’t see her eyes behind the veil, but he imagines there’s a playful look in them. Honestly, he’s not sure either. Pure luck and Manda had saved him multiple times in that last fight. And now Manda has made it _exceedingly_ clear that they aren’t allies. He feels that he should sort that out, if he isn’t still prevented from entering.

“Sasuke, you and I will rehearse our lines tomorrow. The ceremony will be mediated by the servants, so you shouldn’t have to memorize much else. Some of our guests won’t be able to make it by the time the wedding is scheduled, unfortunately, so we’ve decided to broadcast it. The crew isn’t allowed to get too close, so you shouldn’t worry.” She adds, seeing his grimace. “In that vein, am I correct to assume Naruto is being sent home? I happened to overhear pieces of your conversation while passing by-”

Kakashi is quick to wave her polite platitudes cleverly concealing the eavesdropping portion. “He’s agreed to be sent back.” He glances at Sasuke. “Or, he was convinced, more like.”

Sasuke doesn’t appreciate the looks being sent his way.

“He was… concerned with my protection.”

“Then he considers it inadequate.” Ayame nods thoughtfully. 

Kakashi startles. “He meant no offense-”

“Oh, banish the thought. He hasn’t offended anyone except Sasuke.”

Sasuke glowers, proving her point. Kakashi laughs.

“It _is_ strange though…” She trails off, before she waves the train of servants away. They take the silver dishes and lines of dresses and fabric with them as they go, and only once they’re gone, and Kakashi has set up the appropriate privacy seals, do they proceed. “On that note, I think this may have been deliberate. I’ve looked into the roster of guards and all of them are quite inexperienced, comparatively. Certainly no match for the Akatsuki. No match for most accomplished jonin, really.”

“Ito.” He says flatly. He purposefully arranged it so the guards would be hopelessly outmatched by the assassins that he had hired to take them out. 

She nods. “Precisely what I was thinking. He reigns over the military division and all matters concerning the Shinobi. He is the one who decides who makes up the patrols. He deliberately picked candidates who were not fit for active duty inside the castle.” She shakes her head, sheet of glossy pale hair shifting. “I should have figured it out sooner.”

“Casting blame won’t change anything.” Kakashi reminds her.

“Of course.” Her mouth hooks on a sheepish smile. “That said, Kakashi, did you discover anything within the text?”

“Yes.” He procures the heavy book from his bag and props it open on the table. A scattering of blank paper is tucked into the cover, red ink scribbled over it in Kakashi’s chicken scratch. “I had to read the entire thing a few times to get it, but there are lines of code embedded in it. They look younger than the book itself does.”

Ayame nods thoughtfully, tracing her fingers over its leathery surface. “And what did you find?”

“The Okazayna are… the revolving point.” He brushes a finger over a line of text. “This book has pages missing, and paragraphs cut out, so I can’t be positive, but the Okazayna were a prominent clan in the Warring States Period, yes?” Ayame nods, and he turns to Sasuke, a bit uncomfortably. “There are certain… parallels to the Uchiha clan.”

Sasuke bristles. “All clans were mercenary clans.”

“ _Calm_.” Ryoko soothes.

“Yes,” Kakashi nods gracefully. “I was referring more to… their role in the village. The Okazayna were largely… written out of the history of Yukigakure.” He looks to Ayame, and she nods her permission. “Mostly on the merit of their reputation, among other things. They were considered… effectively ‘barbaric’, by this book’s terms.”

Is this the parallel? Because if it is then Sasuke doesn’t like it one bit. He isn’t _stupid_. He understands that the Uchiha had been segregated, that the village had looked at him with scorn, and then something like detached awe, when he became a commodity. When he was the only one left. _Then_ he was the potential to be cultivated into a useful tool for the village.

“Many clans experienced that kind of ostracization from civilians.” Kakashi explains. “In all villages. Many considered them… what perpetuated that period of time, not the people hiring them. There was one _particular_ conflict that they were known for at the time. There’s no translated name. It’s something like the black dragon conflict. The Okazayna were told to target the Uchiha clan just before Konoha was officially formed. Yukigakure was already mostly established, which is why their Shinobi system is different than ours.”

“Didn’t they always teach us that the founding of Konoha came first?” He asks dryly.

“Propaganda will have you believe anything.” Kakashi says succinctly, and turns a page. “Yukigakure wanted more control of that the amorphous mass that was Konoha before it was Konoha had primary control over. So the Okazayna were made to recover it from the Uchiha. It lasted three months but eventually the Uchiha won and that led to the first peace treaty being signed, which is another reason the Senju eventually sided with them…”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” He frowns.

“Konoha has a… history with the Uchiha.” Kakashi grimaces. “Obviously you’d already inferred that what with the compound but… most of the fear stemmed from Madara, and then your clan was suspected of having orchestrated the Kyubei attack.”

Sasuke’s mouth is an angry slash across his face. Ryoko tightens her grip around his shoulders.

“On top of that humiliation,” Ayame says, “The clan was ridiculed for their inability to stop your clan. They… were treated unfairly by the village upon their return, much of their hierarchical ranks stripped from them. It is… a black stain on our history, unfortunately. There isn’t much of anything that refers to the Okazayna clan now at all, even though Ito commands the military. No one ever addressed it at all, and I fear that’s why the situation at hand is so dire. I suspect Ito’s bid for power knows no bounds.”

“Did he hire the Akatsuki?”

Can you hire the Akatsuki? Do they take requests?

“Akatsuki is in charge of several mercenary bands, particularly those under Kakuzu. He owns… most of them, actually. Deidara still has affiliations with all the terrorist groups in Suna, but those are harder to prove. Pein has his hands in Orochimaru’s betting rings - did you shut those down or are they still functioning?”

Sasuke shrugs. “Probably. I didn’t stick around long enough to see, but there were networks of them and they weren’t just in Oto. They were _based_ in Oto, that’s where the biggest one was, but there are hundreds of them. If the one in Oto got shut down they’d just relocate.”

Kakashi nods. “So Pein has connections to all of Orochimaru’s betting rings and everyone inside them, Kazuku has his mercenary bands of missing nin, Deidara with the Suna bombers… I can’t imagine Hidan wasn’t connected to at least some cults.”

“Konan.” He says. “She’s mostly in charge of their missionary work. She has ties with Amegakure.”

“You can confirm that?”

“Yes.”

Kakashi scribbles down something in his notes. “Okay. The Akatsuki want the Jinchuuriki, and if war breaks out, what do they get out of that?”

“Chaos.” Sasuke says. “Easy to manipulate, easier to fight against divided nations than allied ones.”

“So the Akatsuki benefit on all fronts. Ito gets political power. There’s… one more name that I saw come up in the book multiple times.”

“Who?” Ayame frowns, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Danzo.”

“What does _he_ get out of this?” Sasuke frowns. “There’s no direct channel for him to leverage power out of this.”

Kakashi hums, mouth a thin line. “Not necessarily true. By aligning himself with the Akatsuki he has many resources at his disposal. He already controls an underground faction called ROOT that operates outside of the Hokage’s orders. If he really wanted to kill her with those resources he probably could.”

Sasuke grimaces. That’s why he wanted Sasuke to know about him.

“I guess it’s about time for me to bring these out, then.” He hauls up a stack of papers, overflowing, as thick around as his fist, secured by a rubber band that looks a disturbance away from snapping and depriving the nearest person of an eye.

“This is… a list of files that the Hokage believes to be falsified. According to our reports, there shouldn’t have been any ANBU assigned to this area at this time.” He unravels an old, crinkled map, a mountain range to the East that Sasuke has never seen before pencilled into the corner and points to a spot on the border. Definitely not something that mass produced maps have printed on them. “And this report shows skirmishes right here.” He drags his finger down to a little handful of fishing and farming communities near the lake. “But we don’t have any reports of those, and,” He rifles through the stack of papers. “Neither does anyone else. You said Ito is in charge of your military, didn’t you? So let’s look at this…"

He pulls out a file detailing their intel concerning Akatsuki activity.

“At this date and time fighting was reported here.” Just off of the spattering of little towns is a wide stretch of forest. Sasuke recognizes it.

“Orochimaru has a betting pool there."

Kakashi hands him a red marker. “Circle all of them that you can remember.”

Orochimaru had showed him an incomplete map, once, and he had taken the opportunity to memorize it all with the Sharingan. Within a minute, twenty rings are circled.

“Plenty of these are correlated.” He sighs. “I can see why this would’ve fallen through, especially if Danzo was in on it. He has enough administrative sway that he could easily confirm these documents and have his word taken for it. The dates, times and locations are so close together that it’s not likely that someone would’ve spotted it unless they knew what they were looking for. Things like this fall through the cracks all the time.”

It was probably how Danzo made ROOT work and still have so few people know of its existence.

“So you’re saying this war is happening because of bureaucratic error.” Ayame says dryly.

“A man manipulating bureaucratic error in order to exacerbate already existing international tension.” Kakashi corrects, and runs a hand through his unruly shock of silver hair. “Well, we know exactly what’s going on now, but we really need to figure out which Akatsuki member is most likely to attack us in the next two days.”

“Deidara.” Sasuke says, without hesitation. If he knows anything about Deidara, it’s that the man has the attention span of a toddler and the emotional maturity of one, too. He didn’t get a chance to eviscerate Sasuke earlier so he’s definitely going to want another go. “Are there any others here?"

“I don’t think so. The Akatsuki doesn’t strike me as an organization that lumps all their members in the same place."

Sasuke hums. “What are we doing about Ito and Danzo?”

“Tsunade has Danzo handled. As for Ito, we shouldn’t attack him head on. I say we proceed with the wedding and if he happens to appear when someone attacks you have my full permission to kill him, or whatever else you feel is appropriate. Unfortunately, it might be better to keep him alive just for his testimony. Once the wedding is secured we can figure out what to do with him. All this information is going to Tsunade. Engaging him here probably isn’t the best decision considering we’re in what essentially boils down to his territory. Just worry about staying alive for now.”

The levity of that leaves the both of them quiet, for a moment.

Sasuke still prefers a fight to the death to wedding planning, though.

“I’ll secure the perimeter.” Kakashi says. “And leave you two to whatever wedding preparations you have to do.”

“Thank you, Kakashi.” She smiles warmly. The door clicks quietly behind him.

Hasty wedding preparations run long into the night. White ribbons and silk are pulled from storage closets that Sasuke had previously not been aware existed, tables are prepared and arranged, the cooks are working overtime. The servants are a level of frantic that’s frankly making _him_ a little stressed out. The shifts for the guards are getting pulled even tighter. Sakura and Naruto have bags beneath their eyes the next day. The cleaning staff look sorely overworked as everyone crams two weeks of preparation into a mere two days.

The makeup artists try at least twelve different color palettes on his face before they settle on one that they’re happy with, that matches both his mysterious clothes that he hasn’t seen yet and complements Ayame. The entire palace is buzzing with tension. This wedding marks a peace treaty that will solidify international peace and prevent the sordid and very real threat of world war.

He’s forced to make (debatably) civil small talk with several diplomats, all of whom chalk up his natural antisocial tendencies to pre-wedding jitters, which might be the most insulting thing Sasuke has ever heard, but he digresses. By the time he slips away the day has dropped to starless night, the outside world a monochrome dichotomy of black sky on white snow, a perfect, even divide. He trails through the long hallways, passing chattering servants and guards as he does so, before he locates Naruto’s shared room.

A cot is set up on the floor, Naruto’s pack leaning against it. He’s halfheartedly shoving unfolded pairs of clothes into the open flap and looking every bit like a kicked puppy.

Sasuke leans against the doorway and bites down on a smirk when Naruto notices him and flounders, forcefully shoving the last of his clothes back into his bag and settling himself on the edge of the cot.

“Sasuke!” He says. “I… didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously.” He replies, and walks over to him.

“So, how did the, uh, last minute wedding preparations go?”

Sasuke doesn’t point out that they were less _last minute wedding preparations_ and more _the unraveling of an international conspiracy_

“Fine.”

“This is all pretty stuffy to me. All these politics and everything. For you too, huh?”

Honestly, Sasuke would rather go another round with Kakuzu than attempt conversation with any more diplomats. He’d rather take a dip in the frozen over lake by the temple, even. Anything to get him out of this absolute political _nightmare_ , which only seems to get worse with every new thing they find out about it.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna fight the Akatsuki _without_ me.” He groans.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I mean, obviously you can. You killed Kakuzu, didn’t you? And you didn’t even die.”

Interesting criteria for judging how well he fared against him. But considering that he is Akatsuki, he supposes it’s fair enough.

“They want Jinchuuriki. It’s only logical to send you back to Konoha.”

Naruto bumps their shoulders together. “Yeah I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. I just. I don’t like leaving you guys here, you know? And you’re a target and everything.”

Sasuke sighs. “I’ll be _fine_ , Naruto.”

“I believe you!” He squawks. “Really!”

Sasuke stops glaring. Silence falls between them.

“Just… be careful?”

Sasuke sighs. “Okay.”

“ _Seriously_ , bastard. You have to come home because I have something to give you and I can’t do that if you’re dead.” Sasuke’s mind flashes back to the thing that Naruto had given Sakura to ferry out of the room. Naruto angles his head against his, and then takes his hand, squeezing once before pulling back. “I’m leaving in a couple of hours.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Kakashi said that it’ll make us harder to spot, but like, the snow _glows_. Like, under the moonlight. You can get snow blindness, did you know that? It’s crazy.” He shakes his head. “But anyways, I’m gonna be gone before tomorrow so I’m not gonna get to say goodbye or see the wedding.” He grumbles. His frown then twitches into a grin that makes Sasuke dubious.

“ _So_ ,” He says, and bumps their foreheads together. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

Sasuke is momentarily frozen, and then one of the teams escorting Naruto back calls from the doorway and Naruto jumps up, electrified, and waves as he ducks out the door.

“Bye Sasuke! Leave some Akatsuki for me, got it?”

He’s gone before Sasuke can even think about answering.

He snorts, and looks fondly at the spot he had disappeared.

 _Idiot_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly build up for the next one, which is essentially the climax of the story. We only have two more chapters to go after this! Never thought I'd get this far lmao 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


	11. Something To Do With Wedding Mishaps

The day of the wedding is… hectic, to say the least. The palace is buzzing with activity all through the night. Sasuke stares at the ceiling, time a thick, amorphous sludge, until there’s a knock at his door and he assumes that means it’s time for him to start preparing. The room is still bloated with shadow, but day or night is inconsequential when there’s still so many things to be done. His attendings slip into his room as soon as he opens the door, flicking on the lights and immediately settling down to make him presentable. His clothes, packaged in a sheet of plastic, are draped across his bed. After he’s showered, the makeup artist ushers him towards the chair and clucks her tongue disdainfully at the shadows beneath his eyes. 

Sitting still while they work is a tedious process, but no more tedious than any menial task they were ever assigned as genin. The hardest part about it is still resisting the urge to pull back anytime they reach towards him. The sun is almost up by the time they finish, and then he’s left to get dressed. 

The fabric is soft, midnight, navy blue. The Uchiha crest is displayed across the back. 

The attendants are back not a minute later, playing with the collar and adjusting it minutely. A woman draws spiralling patterns around his hand and wrist, descending from his first knuckle down the length of his hand, wrapping around his thumb before dropping down to circle the knob of his wrist and dropping beneath the hem of his sleeve. 

“Tradition.” The woman explains concisely, swirling the brush again in dark ink so that she can trace the marks again. “Where your hands will be joined.”

Eventually, his mother’s clip, lying on the table, is brought up. The woman looks at it, and then to him, gauging his reaction. He doesn’t react outwardly, and she takes it as permission to tuck it behind his ear, the teeth of the comb disappearing beneath his hair so only the white flowers show.

A knock on the door disrupts their quiet crooning. Not waiting for an answer, it swings open to reveal Kakashi, still wearing that mask along with the rest of his wedding-appropriate attire. Sasuke quirks an eyebrow.

“Time to go!” He says cheerfully. Sasuke sighs and unfolds himself from the chair. Just before he leaves, the woman places a veil, attached to a silver headpiece, at the crown of his head. A silvery sheet of translucent fabric falls over his face, brushing his nose as he moves. An entourage of guards follow them, as if he and Kakashi haven’t demonstrated that they’re perfectly capable of defending themselves already. But most of this wedding is purely for show anyways, and he supposes these guards provide some sort of reassurement for their esteemed guests.

Kakashi plants a hand on his shoulder and steers him through the halls.

“Careful while you’re up there.” He reminds. “Don’t do anything to offend anyone and you should be fine.”

Sasuke snorts. His general existence offends quite a lot of people, as does his continued living despite many, many attempts to end that.

He’s more worried about their missing Akatsuki friend who has no mind for patience and that he hasn’t seen in long enough to warrant concern. 

“You look ridiculous.” Sasuke says, eyes flicking to his mask.

“Oh?” Kakashi teases. “Still trying to get a look at my face?”

He doesn’t dignify that with an answer. 

They’re just at the main doors when Kakashi stops just long enough to wipe away a fake tear. “My cute little student is all grown up!”

“I’ll stab you.”

“Wait to do that until _after_ the ceremony.”

He’s, rather forcefully, shuffled out the door and into the cold, biting morning air. The chill stings his face, biting at his fingers. 

The courtyard is done up more extravagantly than he expected. Uchiha marriages were always more conservative, with only a handful of close relatives and the clan elders in attendance, usually, unless the marriage had some political significance - his parent’s wedding, for instance. They were also rather… he wouldn’t say _toned down,_ but they certainly focused less on showmanship. Most of the festivities happened before, and then after, the wedding itself. The courting process in particular was a large part of their marriage traditions, most of which he’d only skimmed briefly because it wasn’t relevant to his current predicament, and he would actually consider that the more ‘showy’ part of the process. Uchiha weddings usually take place late at night, under the moon. That, at least, is slightly similar. The sky is melting into dawn, midnight blue and purple fading into streaks of pink and orange around the horizon line.

Most notably, though, are the lanterns perched on the gates of the courtyard. They’re spaced evenly; every other paper lantern, burning orange with flickering candle light, has a carefully drawn insignia, alternating between the Uchiha fan and Katayama crest. He hadn't thought they would incorporate that particular tradition, mostly because it’s such an old one, and usually signified the joining of two powerful allies - very appropriate, considering the situation, he supposes. 

Outside the walls, the streets are packed with eager citizens, all wearing the same pale blue of Yukigakure. There are more firecrackers, more small silvery trinkets like the ones he saw on the night of their celebration. He’s all too aware that he’s being broadcasted even now.

Rows of chairs are set up in front of the podium, a flat, white slab of marble carved with perfectly straight edges, the steps smoothed carefully. There are flowers planted around the perimeter. Bouquets of flowers - white, purple near the centers, white and blue banners hanging from every building in sight, rippling in the cold breeze. Colors symbolizing unity. The podium is met with a backdrop of white streamers and bells tied together with delicate ribbon. 

The crowd is a splash of vibrant color in comparison to the relatively toned down colors of the wedding decor. He spots Sakura in one of the rows further away, clad in a pink kimono that is not so bright as her hair, tied gold around the waist, patterns of dappled clouds painting her sleeves. He spots other important diplomats and envoys among the crowd as well - the earthen tones of Iwagakure, the white and maroon colors of Kumogakure, and more that he doesn’t have time to point out before he’s walking, Kakashi’s hand light on his shoulder, down the paved path lined with flowers. On the side opposite him, Ayame approaches the other side of the podium.

She’s clad in pale blue and white fabric, darker towards the bottom, which pools around her feet and drags behind her. Tied around the waist is a sash of dark red, twisted into a bow behind her back. Part of her hair is pulled into a bun, held in place by silver accessories. A veil covers most of her face, but up close, it’s mostly translucent, like his. 

As soon as the guests notice them, the conversation immediately silences. Hundreds of eyes turn his way. More, considering the camera. Himeko is waiting for them when they arrive, and they kneel on either side of her. She has a long necklace of pearls looped between her fingers, the one she’s going to join their hands with.

He stares at the ground, only flicking his gaze up to gauge Ayame’s reaction. She’s stock still, hands folded in her lap while the priestess begins the ceremony, her voice carrying easily through the courtyard. Above, there’s a slight gathering of clouds, the wispy ones sitting on the horizon solidifying into something heavier that suggests snow. He’s fairly sure that’s a good omen, here. 

He extends his hand - his right hand, with the ink on it, when Ayame does. Fingers fold together into something like an embrace while Himeko recites basic terms in their language and he answers like he was told, accent making his words more sharp and heavy than the light curl of Himeko and Ayame’s words. She begins to remove the pearls from her hand and wrap them around their joined hands, to symbolize their marriage and the union they hope to forge between countries, starting at the wrists and working up. He doesn’t know if there’s a strict process to it or if she’s letting them fall where they please.

It’s only when he’s certain that he couldn’t easily remove his hand if he tried that she leaves the last part of the necklace loose, dangling over wrist bones. 

Sasuke feels something like apprehension creeping up his spine. His knees are cramped from sitting like this for so long, legs folded beneath him into hard, cold marble, a straining in his wrist as he holds his palm flat, but he’s no stranger to discomfort. He can feel the weight of Kakashi’s gaze on his back and resolves to sit straighter, hold his head higher. 

He can’t quite shake the feeling, though. 

(If Naruto ever knew, Sasuke has no doubt that he would tease him about getting _cold feet_ for the rest of his life).

Himeko draws back, and then reaches up to pull their veils back over their heads, and Sasuke catches the motion for what it is a second too late. At the edge of his consciousness, he registers a familiar and very unwelcome chakra signature and that’s the warning he gets before there’s an explosion behind them and the camera man is dead. At the same time, from the white sash around her waist she pulls a hooked dagger and slashes down at Ayame’s throat. 

The Sharingan clamps down on his eyes and he yanks Ayame forward with his free hand, and the dagger bites into her shoulder but no further, splattering blood on her decadent clothes. He pulls at the necklace until it snaps, ignoring the pulse of pain in his wrist, rushing to his feet as Chidori flares around him and a reverse summon tugs at his chakra network. 

“Riku!” He calls, and the hawk soars out of a cloud of white smoke, the tips of his primary feathers catching the smoke and dragging it behind him, his Chokuto clutched tightly in his talons. This had been the failsafe, the one Kakashi had made him promise that he had. 

But more importantly, Himeko is dragon mask (and he should have seen it sooner - that was how she was getting in and out of the castle and it must have been her that reported to Deidara about their impromptu trip to the castle) and Deidara is here. 

Deidara, who is currently dropping his explosive monstrosities into the streets while the citizens scream and scatter. 

The second his sword is in his hands Himeko nearly disarms him, but reinforced with Chidori, she’s forced to back off. Another volley of clay bombs rains down on the guests, and there’s screaming as Sakura and the other guards begin herding people away. A cloud of dust is kicked up that obscures his vision for a moment. 

Behind him, Kakashi grabs Ayame and pulls her away from the fight. 

“Kakashi!” He snaps, parrying another blow. She exhales a pillar of fire that catches at the flowing ends of the curtains and he’s forced to create a wave of earth to cover it. One of Deidara’s clay monsters - and his signature is just hovering over them in the sky, he needs to get him away from the city - lumbers over his shoulder, and he’s forced to stop the folds of earth long enough to drive his lightning-conducting sword through what he would tentatively refer to its face. 

‘Art’ his ass.

Unfortunately, the thing splits in two, and it takes another, more localized blast of Chidori to render it useless. 

Himeko’s dagger cuts at the fabric of his back and Kakashi rushes up behind him.

“I’ll deal with things here, you get Deidara. Lead him away from the city.”

Sasuke doesn’t have time to do anything but nod and comply. 

Leading Deidara away shouldn’t be a problem. He has no issue believing, given his history as a terrorist bomber, that he would like nothing more than to blow up the city, but Deidara is just petty enough that a grudge should be enough to sway his natural destructive inclinations. If he appeals to the man’s ego, he should be able to lure him away.

Sasuke immediately locates the biggest, most dangerous golem in the crowd and bisects it with his sword before electrocuting each newly developing monster with highly concentrated electricity that liquifies them both. 

Above, Deidara hangs over his clay dragon, teeth bared in a wild, unhinged grin, blonde hair whipping in the wind. The dragon opens its mouth and more, smaller monstrosities come falling out. That’s the source, then, and there are no convenient bodies of water to trap it in now, which means that the new goal is to lead it away from the crowd. He shoots lightning up at the dragon, which it narrowly avoids. 

Speed is going to be his best weapon here, and recognizing that, he knows exactly what he’s going to do.

He raises his sword, a blatant declaration of war.

_Come get me._

Deidara’s mouth curls at the challenge, and before he has the chance to go off on another tangent about art, Sasuke leaps up and to the edge of the building, not bothering to see if Deidara pursues. He will. The sound of the dragon’s wings is all the confirmation he needs.

“Don’t think you can get away from me that easy, brat!”

There’s an explosion in the air around him, like muffled thunderclaps, as more oozing piles of animated clay bubble into deformed shapes. Concave skulls and mouths hanging open limply, as if someone had snapped their jaws. One of them makes a low, groaning sound, and Sasuke pierces them all through with Chidori before they have the chance to do any more damage. He’s more worried about the smaller ones than anything, but by drawing him out into the open, into the barren wasteland of the tundra, there’s nothing that he can use against him. This is where Sasuke would prefer to fight him anyways, all things considered.

The Sharingan is the only thing that saves him from getting his arm wrenched off by the nearest monster. The curse mark hisses as he pulls chakra carefully from it. He’s learned how to regulate his chakra better now, so it isn’t nearly as hard as it had been two years ago. Instead, he capitalizes on the fact that all his chakra is diverted towards it and forces them back out. Chidori slices cleanly through it, rendering it neutralized. 

The small army of clay monsters leap after him. This might be a problem.

Deidara cackles as the clay dragon stretches its jaw open, unhinged like a python, and more clay monsters drool from its maw, a terrible grinding as its tail scrunches up for more material to be crafted. 

He doesn’t have the sheer amount of chakra that Naruto has, so blasting them all with Chidori until they’re immobilized isn’t going to work, especially considering the great size of the dragon. 

But he thinks he might have a way around that.

He hurls a shuriken that soars through several volleys of beasts before lodging itself in the black socket that would otherwise hold an eye at one a good distance away. The gaping holes he tore quickly close back up.

“That isn’t going to work.” Deidara leans his head on his hand, the dragon’s wings creating powerful downbeats. “I thought you’d be smarter than that. Did you _really_ kill ol' Kakuzu?”

Three more shurikens. Deidara is about a second from detonating them. The ones at the back begin to bulge, malleable shell bubbling. 

He pulls at three strings of wire, one between his teeth, and the second they catch the glint of the disappearing sunlight, Deidara’s eyes widen, and Chidori crackles down the length of the wire with little interference on his part, disintegrating every monster it loops through.

Deidara leans over the flank of the dragon. “You little _brat!_ ”

From the dragon’s jaws explodes a smaller dragon, and Sasuke just has the foresight to clasp his hands together before hiding beneath the earth as an explosion rocks the ground. He returns to the surface, using the cover of the smoke to detect where Deidara is with the Sharingan. He can make out chakra signature through most anything, so it’s not difficult in the slightest to detect the giant mass of chakra above him. Judging distance is a fair bit harder, considering the smoke makes depth perception hard to gauge. 

As the smoke clears, he sees the dragon push another small army of clay past its tongue, and sees the hand sign Deidara makes, mouth twisted into an ugly sneer, as the monsters fall once again to earth. If this keeps up, he’ll have to fight an entire army of clay monsters before the dragon runs out of clay, and then Deidara can always make more.

Which means it’s more important to attack the dragon right now. 

He stabs his sword into the ground so the metal is almost entirely buried, and uses it as a jumping point, one arm extended up as Chidori forms a long, concentrated blade that slices the dragon’s wing clean off. His wrist twitches to the right, and it veers through packed clay, closer to Deidara, before a something like a small showering of microscopic bugs falls to the ground. 

That can’t be anything good.

He rips his sword back up from the ground as another clay monster attacks him, hips too narrow to control its wobbling, uneven gait, channeling Chidori as he neutralizes them. As he glances up to gauge the dragon’s state, he realizes with no small amount of satisfaction that part of Deidara’s long hair has been singed off, an absolutely _furious_ expression on his face as he leers down at him, the charred ends of his hair swinging in the wind. 

Above, the clouds are gathering.

Sasuke aims at the dragon, a little too high, just at the spot where its new wing is reforming, above where the joint connecting shoulder to wing should be. The dragon angles itself so the flames, exploding into a gold inferno, shoot over its shoulder and into the sky.

“You think _that_ pathetic thing was enough to stop me?” Deidara’s smile is nothing short of unhinged. “Your fire can’t do anything to my masterpieces!”

He can feel the shift of wind, the telltale signs of a cold front meeting a warm one. The sky swirls into a tumultuous gray mesh of dark storm clouds.

His eyes catch the movement as Deidara makes another hand sign - the sign most commonly associated with earth, and the strange mass of luminescent chakra earlier dispersed starts _glowing,_ a slow, small tremor dancing across his skin.

_He’s going to detonate them._

He presses a hand flat to his chest and Chidori crackles through him in a moment of terrible, gut wrenching pain as lightning courses through him and the ground is engulfed in a thousand explosions, each like the crack of thunder. 

The dust it kicks up stings his eyes, and he heaves for breath, each breath threatening to send him sprawling into the snow. There’s a pronounced ache under his ribs, pounding against his sternum as his heart flutters wildly. Electricity crackles off his skin and he breathes tightly through clenched teeth as the dragon comes partly back into view. 

He grimaces as he flicks the Sharingan back on, pulling again at the curse mark so that he didn’t divert any more of his already tangled natural chakra network. 

Above, the clouds are much darker than he thought. He can feel the static in the air, the ozone behind his teeth. His chakra is cold and sharp, like static electricity. 

The edge of his mouth wrenches into a grin.

“So you survived that, too, you little cockroach.”

Deidara’s eyes rake over him, the electricity sparking off his skin. He can barely hold himself upright; the pain in his chest deepens when he does, and he can’t risk passing out right now. As it seems, controlled breaths that are neither too shallow or deep seem to be working fine if he doesn’t want to aggravate it.

_My body’s in shreds,_ he thinks scathingly. 

But, well, he’s not the only one that’s going to be shot through with electricity.

“Did you electrocute _yourself?_ I knew you Uchiha were insane, but not _that_ insane.” There’s a grin on his face, but the tension around his eyes is unmistakable, the hard line of his jaw as he wraps   
white-knuckled fingers around the dragon’s neck as he leers down at him. “You aren’t quite as strong as your brother.”

_He’s trying to rile you up,_ he counsels, but it does little to help him strangle down the white hot flare of hatred working its way though him, warming his numbed fingers. _He only brought him up because he wants you off balance._

Looking at him now, it’s clear that Deidara didn’t learn his lesson with Itachi. He could easily put him under a genjutsu now if he felt so inclined.

He doesn’t need to, however. He can feel the lightning lashing behind the clouds, heavy in the air. There’s enough of it for what he needs. 

His hand surges with lightning, and the pull of chakra is a deep, persistent pain, his skin tingling as he calls forth more lightning. He had created this for the purpose of killing Itachi, but if nothing else, this is good practice. Kirin is new and so incredibly destructive and easily the most powerful thing he has at his disposal, at the moment. 

He calls forth bolts of crackling electricity from the sky, and the sky glows unearthly blue. Lightning forms the great, glowing form of a serpentine, draconic form, spines of electricity shooting from its back like serrated knives, crackling teeth bared in a snarl. Its body crackles and hisses, and Sasuke’s hair stands on end as it descends from the clouds. It hovers just behind him, led by his hand as Deidara’s eyes go wide as he realizes the gravity of his situation, and comes to terms with his own mortality. 

“There’s no use trying to escape.” He drawls, as the hissing, splintering electricity glows hotter and brighter - almost white, so heavy with power that its presence would flatten a lesser man to the ground, the loud roar of thunder succeeding it will be all the warning that he gets. There is no escaping Kirin. 

He flicks his fingers.

It happens faster than the human eye can comprehend. Almost too fast for the Sharingan to register at all, as its body uncoils, undulating so quickly from its curled posture, brimming with potential energy, and shoots forward more quickly than anyone could ever hope to escape. A fraction of a second. 

The explosion throws him backwards, his lungs flattening to his diaphragm at the pressure as the ground beneath them cracks and caves, the flash of light enough to blind him if he hadn't closed his eyes. He digs his heels into the ground as the shockwaves pass, lowering a trembling hand from his face as the smoke clears. 

There’s static electricity in the air as he inhales. He feels it in his teeth, his jaw, his shuddering heart. The earth below dips into a shallow crater, lighting fizzling off the snow in white sparks before they’re extinguished in the snow. The earth is charred and blackened. The lightning itself had cracked it into dry, crumbling dust.

At the epicenter of the damage, atop a scarred pile of earth, is what once used to be a person. Most of him is burnt to ash, thoroughly obliterated by Kirin’s sheer power. He can make out half a charred, burnt ribcage, but he’s sure that upon trying to move it, it would collapse into dust. 

The dragon is nothing but a puddle of rapidly drying sludge, coating half the crater in a layer of cracking clay. All of the other monsters have been similarly neutralized, he notes, as he takes a cursory glance of his surroundings. Which means it’s safe as he falls to his knees and gasps for breath. Eventually he finds the strength to drag himself out of the crater and onto the snow, which burns his hands and seeps through his clothes and to his knees, fabric not meant for fighting or as a deterrent to the cold, shoulders heaving.

All and all, he fared better than with Kakuzu, but barely. Kirin is perhaps the most difficult of his jutsus to set up for the simple reason that controlling so much lightning would exhaust his chakra immediately, even with the curse mark. 

He leans back into the snow and focuses on not passing out, listening to the heavy thud of his heartbeat in his ears, until the ache has lessened enough that standing up isn’t agonizing.

He stumbles to his sword, leaning over it like a crutch, and, as slowly as he dares, begins to drag himself back towards the palace.

He doesn’t appreciate how far out he was until he had to drag himself all the way back, fighting with his exhaustion. The last thing he needed was to pass out in the middle of the tundra when no one knew precisely where he had disappeared to. Controlling Kirin usually leaves him drained just because of how much precision and control he needs to be able to control that much lightning. Now is no exception. He hauls himself through the front gates on unsteady legs and receives an audience of pale faced, stricken guests.

Kakashi is helping Ayame forward, who has several gashes torn from her arms and right leg - all the bleeding hopefully staunched. Sakura, hovering behind him, had tied her hair back at some point, her sleeves shoved up around her elbows, probably for the purpose of administering aid to whoever had fallen victim to Deidara’s monstrosities. 

“There he is.” Kakashi greets, but Sasuke can hear the relief in his voice. He catches the loosening of his shoulders even through his swimming vision.

“We worried when the monsters fell, but you failed to return.”

He grunts something in reply, glancing behind them for Himeko.

Ayame follows his vision, and then points to some of the Shinobi, hunched around a figure bound by rope, cuffs snapped around her wrist that suppress chakra movement. Himeko.

“She was our mysterious assassin friend.” Kakashi says, his cheer vaguely abrasive. Sasuke stumbles another step forward and Kakashi catches him by the shoulders.

“Easy there.” He teases. Sasuke groans into his shoulder. He doesn’t have it in him to tell him to fuck off. 

“Look at you. You’ve fought two Akatsuki so far and won, and not a hair out of place!” He gently pulls the comb behind his ear out of his tangled hair so it doesn’t fall out and get lost. Sasuke is obliquely aware of how lucky he was he didn’t lose it in the fight. “You might even get a price higher than mine in the bingo book.” 

“Of course I will.” His voice is muffled, and the world spins around him, darkness creeping in on all sides. He just barely registers it as the consciousness slips from him and Kakashi hooks an arm behind his knees just as he passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Sasuke ever last a chapter without passing out?? It remains to be seen. 
> 
> Sorry this took a hot minute, this fight scene was really not working with me. As usual, if there's anything that needs clarifying I'll do my best to clear things up, fight scenes are fun to write but I can say with certainty that they're not my strong point. Writing more of them is definitely a way of getting out of my comfort zone so if you have any feedback for me on that front it would be greatly appreciated. 
> 
> We've only got one more chapter to go! Thanks for reading!


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter! This one is shorter because it's mostly tying up loose ends. Sorry this took me a little longer to get out than usual.

_“Sasuke!”_ Sakura snaps. “What are you doing out of bed?!”

Around his shoulders, Ryoko shakes with silent laughter. Riku, bored by the understimulation that hours of being confined to a hospital bed usually brought, had slipped back into the spirit realm. _“You’ve been caught.”_

_“Thank you for pointing that out.”_

Sakura squints dubiously between them, pushing a belligerent finger into his shoulder. “You have got to be the _worst_ patient I’ve ever had.”

Good to know that this experience has been thoroughly terrible for the both of them.

“Worse than Naruto?”

She pauses to amend her statement. “Second worst,” She concedes. “But that isn’t saying much.”

No, he supposes, it really isn't. 

She stares at him out of the corner of her eye as they walk. No matter how many times he’d reiterated that he was completely fine and more time restricted to the hospital wing wasn’t going to accomplish anything, she didn’t seem to believe him. This could, of course, be revenge for all the times he’d escaped the wing under her watch. 

“Kakashi came by earlier.” She says. “Something about a kage summit.”

He supposes that would be the appropriate course of action in this situation, especially since they’ve put all the pieces together now. 

“How long ago?”

She glances down at her watch. “Three hours.”

Then he shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.

“If you end up back in the med wing again, I’m putting you on indefinite medical leave!” She warns, and he grimaces. 

“I won’t.”

Her glare is sharp. “You better not.”

He disappears around the corner, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You’re finally up.” Kakashi says mildly, though there’s a teasing edge in his voice. “Is this the third time?” 

It’s the fourth, counting the assassination attempt with the poison. He very pointedly does not give Kakashi the satisfaction of knowing this. 

“Fuck off.”

Ayame smiles brightly and grabs him by the crook of the elbow, leading him further into the chamber so they sit opposite each other. “I’m glad that you’ve recuperated. You gave us quite a scare back in the courtyard, but it seems as though you’ve cleared up the issue with the Akatsuki.”

Sasuke frowns. He’s certain that he’s been left deliberately uninformed, but he isn’t sure if the tenuous peace between the villages has shattered yet. The ceremony was interrupted, after all, and reports of his well being unconfirmed. Of course, one of the attackers was very clearly the Akatsuki, which is firm evidence in their case that the war is a means to an end and that it’s been carefully orchestrated up to this point. In that vein, he has no idea if the marriage is official. What’s the protocol when the person officiating the marriage tries to stab the happy couple? Or the wedding is interrupted by a terrorist bomber? He couldn’t say. 

“I promise I’ll explain everything.” She folds her hands delicately in her lap. “We have visual evidence of the Akatsuki member Deidara. We were,” She clears her throat. “Unable to recover his remains, but the bones we found are going through dental identification.”

Kirin did have the unfortunate side effect of completely obliterating whoever it was used on. He’ll take that into consideration in the future.

“We have enough evidence to conduct an investigation.” She glances at Kakashi.

“Aah, yes. I was asked to relay a message to you: Danzo is currently undergoing trial for his affiliation with the Akatsuki.” 

Sasuke glances back to Ayame, who smiles, all the tension melting from her face, though her exhaustion is clear in the tight lines at the creases of her eyes and the tension around her mouth.

“I’ve arranged for a summit to be held. With the evidence that we’ve collected, we should be able to call off the war entirely. Moreover, I believe your testimony would be invaluable, and lend credence to our case, so I would be honored if you would accompany me.”

He glances to Kakashi. Is that sort of thing allowed?

Kakashi rolls his eyes, managing to look both fond and exasperated. 

Well, he supposes it would appear quite rude of him to turn down an invite like that. 

“I’ll go.” He says after a moment of hesitation. Her smile widens and her shoulders slump with relief. 

“That’s a great relief.” She breathes, tugging at the silvery hem of her sleeve. “It’s not for another week, but if we wish to make it in time we’ll have to leave tomorrow.”

The last thing Sasuke wants to think about right now is intensive travel. He’s still sore from back to back fights against Kakuzu and Deidara, most of his bruises and contusions healed, but little can be done about the chakra exhaustion except wait for it to replenish itself naturally, and the unique soreness that comes from intense, life threatening combat. 

He inclines his head slightly and exhales. 

“Do I need to know anything about etiquette for the summit?”

“No,” She smiles coyly. “I think your experience is preparation enough.”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Well,” Kakashi says, standing up. “Then you better get packed up.”

Sasuke takes his offered hand and pulls himself to his feet. Kakashi plants a hand on his shoulder as they walk back to his room to gather his things. 

“Tsunade’s really going to put you in the Bingo Book, you know.” He starts casually. Sasuke glances up at him. “Killing two Akatsuki members is no small task.”

Sasuke stares blankly ahead, prickling with discomfort.

Kakashi sighs and ruffles his hair before he can duck away. “You’re impossible. I mean you did good.”

Sasuke pauses, and stares at him, startled. 

“Good luck tomorrow, kid.” He slides the door shut, leaving him to his silence.

The next morning, before they’re set to leave, Sakura approaches him in the hallway, and he finds Ryoko wrapped conspicuously around her arm. Sasuke doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Were you going to tell me you were leaving, or was I going to have to find out from Ryoko here?” She raises an eyebrow, one finger scratching her head. “I take back everything I said about snakes, by the way. She’s an angel.”

“Only because you don’t know her.” He says flatly.

 _“Brat.”_

_“Traitor.”_

Sakura glances between them. “You got an answer for me, Uchiha?”

“We’re leaving for the summit.” He replies. “I learned yesterday. Ayame thinks my attendance would be beneficial.”

“So stiff.” She rolls her eyes, grabbing one of his arms and looping it with hers before proceeding to drag him down the corridor. “No passing out on the journey, got it? If you feel lightheaded, set aside your stupid pride for one second and tell someone, got it? I wasn’t kidding about the indefinite medical leave.” She warns pointedly, forcefully grabbing his face so she can look for stress lines around the eyes that indicate the overuse of the Sharingan. He pulls away, and she sighs. 

“Be careful. And good luck with your meeting. I’ll see you back at home?”

“Yeah.” He breathes, and Ryoko coils back around his arm. 

“Don’t do anything stupid.” She wraps him in a quick hug before a man in mint green scrubs rockets around the corner yelling for her. “Say you won’t do anything stupid.” She demands, pulling back. 

He blinks. “... no promises.”

She groans, long-suffering, a grin hanging off the edge of her mouth. “See you!” She says, before jogging towards the man. 

_“What a lovely young lady.”_ Ryoko says in a way that Sasuke is sure is meant to spite him.

 _“You two are perfect for each other.”_ He deadpans. 

“Sasuke!” Kakashi calls. “They’re waiting for you by the gates.”

He glances down at her. “That’s our cue.” It’s too cold for her outside. She disappears in a burst of smoke, and he heads for the gates.

The Kage summit is strangely uneventful. The first hour consists of polite greetings (Gaara seems surprised to see him there), and Tsunade welcomes them charmingly, even as Sasuke stays rooted next to Ayame. She, along with Tsunade, prevent their case in a straightforward manner, and when prompted, he steps forward to recount his own experience fighting both Kakuzu and Deidara, as well as the assassination attempts. 

They break after two hours of conversation, and he finds Ayame speaking to Tsunade in the corner of the grand building, easily bigger than any of the Hokage Residences that any individual village hosts. There are more rooms than he can count, easily enough to get lost in. The ceilings are all dome arches - clearly designed for diplomatic discussion. The voices echo and carry across the room without much need for projection. 

“Do you think this will be enough to halt the war effort?” He hears Ayame ask.

“Well, if we can get the backing of the rest of the Kage, it should be.” Tsunade replies. “Your case is airtight, you shouldn’t worry about claims on the legitimacy-” She turns when she hears him approach. “Uchiha.” She jerks her chin up in acknowledgement. “Congratulations.” She greets dryly. 

He narrows his eyes. Ayame is quick to mediate, gesticulating between the two of them placatingly. 

“Sasuke.” She takes a step closer to him. “We have a strong case. It’s likely that most, if not all, fighting can be entirely avoided, if we secure the cooperation of the other Kages. Of course, there are always the independent variables to work around, but we can deal with those as we encounter them.” She waves a hand. “I’m afraid they need you to clarify a few more details about your fight with Dediara, though, if that’s alright with you.”

He nods.

“Oh, and, well, Sakura was rather insistent I stay updated on your health-” He grimaces at that while Tsunade grins. “I have a checklist of questions I’m supposed to ask you-”

“You don’t have to do that, I’m _fine._ ” He insists, glancing at Tsunade, who’s laughing silently. 

“Are you sure?” The smug look on her face informs him that she knows exactly what she’s doing and is revelling in his torment.

_“Yes.”_

She laughs behind her hand. “Alright, alright. We should really be returning now.” She glances at the clock. “Punctuality is important.”

Within the next hour, an agreement is reached, and the new parameters for a renewed peace treaty are set up, most of the terms the same as, or at least similar to, the previous ones, with some mild amendments to the less modern ones. Trade routes are traced over, military aid promised, and peace secured. 

Sasuke has never felt so much potent relief in one room before. 

“We’re lucky,” Ayame tells him sagely as the attendants disperse. They’re offered accommodations for another day at least, but she turns them down. He’s being escorted back to Konoha, and he should meet up with Kakashi on the way. “It isn’t every day that you get to prevent a war, no?”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow. 

“If this war was not an external one, coming to an agreement wouldn’t have been nearly so easy.” She muses. “So we’re lucky.”

Deidara almost blew him to pieces a couple of days ago. Sasuke disagrees. 

“The Akatsuki aren’t gone.” He reminds her. Down two members, but clearly they haven’t disbanded or anything so drastic. 

“Then I fear we must prepare for war again…” She trails off, and then shakes her head, the silver trinkets in her hair catching the light. “This is no time for such pessimistic thoughts. This is a time for celebration. We’ve avoided another potential catastrophe, and I think for now, that is a victory. The implication of further threat doesn’t invalidate your accomplishments.” She stops, and turns to face him. The guards are waiting at the end of the path. “Forgive me - rather, thank you for indulging in my rhetoric. Despite a bit of…” She pauses. “ _Turbulence,_ I find that this experience has been very enjoyable. I’m glad to call you a friend and an ally, and know that you can say the same of me, should you ever need help.”

She grabs his hands. “I’m honored to have had this experience. I promise to continue practicing my swordsmanship.” 

Sasuke hopes he can mask how utterly out of depth he is in this situation. 

“Remember the forms I showed you.” He says instead, and she smiles.

“Ah, I’ve kept you waiting. I wish you luck on your endeavors. Do give your team my best, oh, and…” She smiles. “Give Naruto my regards.”

He doesn’t have the time to ask what she means by that before he’s walking. She waves at him until he can’t see her anymore. 

Konoha’s familiar humidity, however heavy (and sometimes unpleasant), is a welcome change to Yukigakure’s cold, dry atmosphere. 

Naruto is waiting for them at the gates. He’s practically a beacon in the distance, with his bright yellow hair and all that garish orange he wears, and once they’re within earshot, he darts forward, much to the disdain of the Chunin guarding the gate, and all but tackles him to the ground.

Sasuke sees it coming but not in time to stop him, and they end up a tangle of limbs on the dirt, Sakura snickering in the background, and he can practically feel Kakashi sighing in his bones. There’s an elbow in his stomach and Naruto is _heavy_ so he can’t quite wriggle out from under him and still maintain any dignity. 

“You’re back!” He exclaims, and clambers off him, offering a hand. Sasuke pulls himself up, shaking dirt off of him. Naruto, at least, has the decency to look a little abashed. “So, you fought two Akatsuki members without me, huh?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. It isn’t like he went looking for them. 

“Naruto!” Sakura hisses. They’re walking back towards the smeared kaleidoscope light of Konoha, the smudged glow of lanterns becoming more pronounced as the sky fades to purple dusk. “Aren’t you gonna give him the thing?”

“Oh yeah!” He turns around to pull something out of his jacket, and when he turns to frown at Sakura, she only grins wider. 

They pass through the gates, buildings looming over on either side of them.

He whirls around and leans towards him, something cupped in his hands-

Glass? 

A glass dragon, with intricately carved claws that catch the flickering light. 

Sasuke stares, wide eyed, at it. 

Naruto rubs the nape of his neck. “Who knew there was glassblowing in Yukigakure? I had the lady at the shop help me make it 'cause it's surprisingly hard to get the little details. I, uh, I know you have a lot of specific customs in your clan so I kinda had Kakashi help me look some up? And I know there’s that one legend about you getting the fire from dragons-”

“Naruto.”

“And it doesn’t have to be. Some big thing or anything-”

_“Naruto.”_

He stops, his eyes wide. 

Sasuke leans forward and kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally at the end! Thank you to everyone for bearing with me! I'm really proud that I managed to finish this in a timely manner and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! Thank you so much to everyone who commented / left kudos, I really appreciated it!


End file.
